The Behaviour of Others
by elbcw
Summary: This is the sequel to my story 'Broken', it picks up where that one finished (see notes within). The Musketeers are searching for those responsible for kidnapping Aramis and Porthos. Aramis has been more affected by the kidnapping than he is letting on, but Porthos knows there is something wrong. It will be a long journey for all of them, figuratively and literally.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: This is a sequel to my story; 'Broken', I have tried to summaries that story within the narrative so you shouldn't need to read it, but by all means do – I won't mind, I'll wait!

I have messed about with the time line of the BBC series so this is slightly AU. 'Broken' had Lemay in it and this one has Richelieu, and Lemay is mentioned. But the BBC were rather loose with their adaptation of the source material, so why can't I be!

The Behaviour of Others

"Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace." — _Dalai Lama_

Chapter One

Now that they were alone, Porthos felt that he could properly relax. He hurt, all over, but he would mend. He lay in the bed staring at the infirmary ceiling listening to Aramis' breathing. His friend was asleep in the bed next to him. Porthos glanced across, the man did not look peaceful, he looked troubled.

The last couple of days had been a nightmare. Being attacked was not unusual for musketeers, they had many enemies, but being kidnapped by people who had false intelligence was another thing entirely. The kidnappers thought Aramis had information, Aramis did not have anything to tell them. Of course, the kidnappers did not believe him and Porthos had to suffer the consequences.

A broken arm and several beatings later they had been very nearly killed by their kidnappers after it became obvious that Aramis could not answer their questions. Porthos smiled again at the thought of d'Artagnan being their unusual saviour, despite being trapped in a cupboard for hours.

Now, he and Aramis were alone in the infirmary. Treville had ushered d'Artagnan off to sleep in his own bed and Athos was outside with a bottle of wine. He had said he would not go far in case either of them needed anything. But really, Porthos knew, he was concerned that Aramis was not fully recovered from the drug he had been given.

To add insult to injury the kidnappers had drugged Aramis, supposedly to render him unconscious whilst they escaped. But it soon became clear, when Aramis had attacked Lemay in a drug fueled rage, that it had not been a simple sleeping draught.

The marksman was mumbling again, he had been unsettled since he fell asleep. Porthos could not make out what he was saying. After a few minutes, he stilled.

One thing Porthos was sure about was that Aramis was not fit to work. Treville had given the others, including Aramis, assignments to hunt out the spy that they knew was connected to the Palace. Lemay had cleared Aramis to work, light duties for a few days, but still allowed him back out as if nothing had happened.

Porthos shuddered as he recollected how frustrated Aramis had been, chained to the wall, unable to help. Aramis had been restrained in such a way that he could not move more than a few inches, and until they undid one of the manacles binding him he could not even sit down. Despite trying to make light of the situation Porthos had been very concerned by his friend's reaction to the confinement.

He had tried not to show it to start with, but as their captivity had continued Aramis had become more withdrawn, to the point of not even answering the questions during the last interrogation. Since their rescue he had been quiet, which the others had put down to fatigue but Porthos knew it was something else. Aramis said he did not remember what had happened after the effects of the drugs had worn off, but he was clearly being affected by the events. Even if it was in his subconscious.

 _MMMM_

 _He pulled at the chains again. He could not reach his injured brother. He could not help. He had been rendered helpless._

 _He reached for Porthos, with his free hand. He could not quite reach. His fingers just brushing the fabric of his doublet._

 _His mind was becoming fuzzy. His thinking not straight. He saw only the darkness._

 _He pulled the man away from Porthos. He needed to neutralise the threat to his friend. He wanted to kill the man._

Images flashed through his mind. He could not work out where they had come from. He guessed it was bits and pieces of their time held captive. But he could not clearly remember any of it. What he did know was that he had been restrained with manacles for some time and that his wrists were a mess where he had apparently pulled at them. His arms were sore and his muscles ached from the pulling.

But the worst thing was what he had done on their rescue. He had attacked and tried to kill Lemay. The doctor had been tending to Porthos and he had tried to strangle the inoffensive man. If Treville and Athos had not been nearby he might have succeeded.

The physician had assured him that the drugs were out of his system now, but he got the impression the others were keeping a close eye on him. He could not blame them. He was not entirely sure he felt free of the drugs himself.

But, he was determined not to let the others know that he was not fully fit to join them in seeking out the spy. He and d'Artagnan were to look for Ruiz, the man who paid the thugs to kidnap him. A job that was, hopefully, just going to involve asking questions and generally annoying some Parisian low life's.

MMMM

As d'Artagnan entered the infirmary he was pleased to see Aramis pulling his boots on. A tray on the table by his bed held the remnants of his breakfast. The musketeer looked a little tired, which was to be expected, but he was clearly ready to start work.

Porthos was eyeing his friend with concern.

'Are you sure you're OK?' he asked as d'Artagnan waited by the door.

'Porthos, I am fine, I slept well and although I ache a bit I'm sure I can manage a walk around a few taverns with d'Artagnan.'

Porthos did not look so sure.

'I'll see he doesn't come to any harm,' said d'Artagnan with a cheeky grin.

'See, I have a protector, stop worrying about me, you are just jealous,' Aramis turned to d'Artagnan, 'how about you, you have your own bumps and bruises to contend with…am I going to have to keep an eye on you?'

It was true that d'Artagnan was stiff. Falling down a flight of stairs in the middle of sword fight was not his finest moment. But his head no longer hurt and the bruises were not bothering him too much.

'We can prop each other up.'

'What a team we will make.'

'Just be careful, I'm not convinced either of you should be out and about yet.'

They looked round as the door to the infirmary opened again, Athos entered, removing his hat as he did so.

'Porthos, you are dead,' he said simply.

Porthos looked a bit confused, 'I don't feel dead, I hurt, all over, but that probably means I am still alive.'

Athos gave a rare smile, 'I was talking to Treville…this investigation is likely to take a few weeks, we have a lot of people to talk to at the Palace. And it is unlikely that these two,' he indicated Aramis and d'Artagnan, 'are going to find anything quickly either. So, we have decided to let it be known that you died of your injuries. That way we have a trump card, should we need it. An element of surprise…and besides you aren't going anywhere until that arm is healed, so Paris will be none the wiser.'

'Porthos; an element of surprise!' said Aramis smiling at the big musketeer, 'I am heartbroken at your recent demise my friend.'

Porthos managed a smile back, d'Artagnan could tell he was still not happy about them being allowed back to work.

'I shall haunt you,' he said, trying to hide his concern.

Athos was back to his usual stoic self, 'we will meet back here this evening to update each other and our dearly departed brother.'

With a nod to each of them Athos left the infirmary. D'Artagnan looked back towards Aramis who nodded.

'Let's go then, don't worry about us too much,' he said to Porthos as he held the door for Aramis. He did not think that Porthos would heed his words.

MMMM

Porthos watched them go. Aramis had put on a good act, he had managed to convince both Athos and d'Artagnan that he was fine. He had lied to them about sleeping well and played down his injuries. Porthos had tried to subtly catch Athos' eye but had been unsuccessful. He wished he could be out there with his friend, he realised the irony, he might as well be dead for all the use he was at this moment.

He thought that this might have been how Aramis had felt when he had been chained up. Although probably not as bad. He could understand his friend wanting to get outside, away from the infirmary, but he did not understand why he was lying about his well-being. Although, he supposed, that was typical of the man. But he generally only hid his own issues if others were in greater need. And that was not the case now, d'Artagnan and himself had both been treated and were not in any real danger.

But, thought Porthos, this was not a physical problem, this seemed to be a mental one. Porthos just hoped it did not cause them any issues and that he managed to get over whatever it was that was bothering him.

He vowed, to at least try, to talk to Aramis about it. He hoped that their friendship meant Aramis would not be embarrassed to talk to him about any inadequacies he was feeling after their ordeal.

MMMM

There was always a sense of trepidation for Athos when he had an audience with the King. The man was so contrary, one minute he behaved like a child, the next he acted as he should, taking affairs of state seriously.

Athos was glad that this audience would be led by Treville, being the more senior man. Despite his own nobility Athos hated dealing with the upper classes. He would use his own rank where necessary but avoided it generally.

Today the King was clearly on their side. He was taking the situation seriously. The attack on two of his musketeers had, for once, annoyed him enough to offer his assistance. He listened intently as Treville asked permission to speak with all the courtiers and palace staff.

'So, it is your belief, Treville,' said the King, 'that one of my courtiers is a spy? That they read the papers that you carelessly left lying around? And then passed on the information to some nefarious villains?'

The King was on their side, but he was clearly not going to let Treville forget he was partly responsible for the incident. Although Treville was unlikely to tell the King the reason the paperwork was 'carelessly left lying around' was because he had been distracted by the King himself.

'Yes, your majesty,' replied Treville, 'it is my belief that the spy saw the details of the shipment and the names of the musketeers who were to accompany it.'

Athos knew that Treville would not have intentionally put his men in danger. The only reason Aramis' had not been in possession of the information about the shipment was a last-minute change in personnel. Whoever had taken him and Porthos must have received the intelligence before the change was made.

'I want this spy found, Treville, I do not like the idea of someone involved in the stealing of priceless relics being here in the Palace.'

'Yes, your majesty, we will be as discreet as possible, we don't want to alert the spy that we know about them.'

'You have my permission to do what is necessary.'

The King left without another word. Athos and Treville bowed as he walked away, standing only when he had left the room. They were alone and could talk freely.

'For a man who only occasionally pretends he is God fearing he is certainly keen to protect his religious relics,' said Treville with a sigh.

It annoyed Athos that this whole incident was about stealing some religious relics. A couple of small finger bones belonging to some saint or other. The King had wanted them delivered to Dordogne for some reason, apparently known only to himself. Aramis and Porthos had nearly been murdered because of a small box of bones that were probably no saintlier than Athos was himself.

'When you can understand the working of his mind, the sun will cease to rise each morning,' replied Athos.

'Shall we?' asked Treville indicating the door.

It was going to be a long day Athos thought.

MMMM

'It's this way,' said d'Artagnan when he noticed Aramis looking a bit lost.

Aramis turned back and followed him saying, 'I was blindfolded on the way there and unconscious on the way out remember. Other than the room we were kept in I have no idea where the house was.'

'I forgot, sorry.'

They had decided to start their search for Ruiz, the man behind the kidnapping of Aramis and Porthos, in the house where they had been kept. They knew the house was empty so would not have to persuade anyone to let them have a look around.

D'Artagnan led the way, he paused at the door looking at Aramis who had stopped a few feet away looking at the house. Aramis looked confused.

'Are you OK?'

Aramis continued to stare at the house, he did not appear to have heard d'Artagnan. When d'Artagnan walked back to him he put his hand on the distracted musketeers shoulder. Aramis flinched, startled by the contact.

'Are you OK?' asked d'Artagnan again.

'What?'

'You were just staring at the house.'

'Oh…sorry, I just…I think I remember the steps going up to the door.'

D'Artagnan knew that Aramis did not remember the events of his and Porthos unwanted stay in the house. Perhaps returning to the scene of the incident would help his friend to unlock those memories.

'Perhaps you will remember more when we get inside?'

'Perhaps,' replied Aramis.

They entered the house, walking across the hall way towards the stairs that led down to the lower floor. D'Artagnan noticed that Aramis was moving slowly, looking about as if he were looking for something. Perhaps he was trying to remember.

'You were kept in a room down here,' d'Artagnan said as he walked down the stairs, 'these are the stairs I fell down when I fought Briand.'

'And quite a fight it was from what I have been told.'

'Not my most elegant though.'

They walked down the stairs and turned into a small corridor. Two doors led off the corridor, d'Artagnan walked over to the far door and opened it stepping back to show Aramis.

'This is my cupboard,' he said with a smirk, 'I felt such a fool when I realised I was trapped here, and could not get help for you both,' he paused glancing back at Aramis, 'I'm sorry I messed up. If I had gone back to the garrison rather than try to release you both on my own…'

Aramis stopped him with a raised hand, 'it all worked out in the end. You did what seemed best at the time.'

D'Artagnan nodded, although he still felt a bit guilty for his choices. He could have prevented some of the injuries Porthos received if he could have brought help sooner. He watched as Aramis stepped towards the other door and tentatively opened it. Aramis paused before entering as if readying himself for the sight.

The room was lit only be a small window high up in the wall. D'Artagnan stepped around Aramis who had stopped a couple of paces into the room. D'Artagnan had been told about the way Aramis and Porthos had been treated. He noted the manacles that had been used to restrain Porthos when he was beaten. The metal ring used to secure Aramis was on the wall opposite the door, one end of a pair of manacles was still attached, the other lying on the floor where it must have been cut from Aramis' wrist when they were rescued.

D'Artagnan looked back at Aramis and noticed the man looked withdrawn. He was staring at the manacles with a haunted look in his eyes.

'Perhaps we shouldn't have come back here,' d'Artagnan said quietly, 'let's go back and search the rooms upstairs, there's clearly nothing down here to help us.'

He gently steered Aramis back out of the room, the marksman allowed himself to be walked back upstairs. D'Artagnan was worried about the man's state of mind. But he knew from experience that sometimes people needed time to come to terms with an incident like the one his friends had been through. Despite Porthos coming off worse physically, Aramis had been forced to watch the assaults and been unable to do anything to stop them. Even if Aramis could not remember the events he knew what had happened from talking to the others. Perhaps the lack of proper memories was having more of an affect than if he could recall the event in detail.

MMMM

As Treville made his way towards one of the reception rooms at the palace Cardinal Richelieu appeared beside him. His approach silent, his intentions obvious. The Cardinal wanted to speak to Treville.

'Might I have a word?'

Although the Cardinal managed to phrase his statement as a question it was clearly an order. Treville stopped and turned to regard the tall man.

'I understand a couple of your musketeers have been attacked. The King appears to know what has happened, but I do not know the whole story. You will furnish me with the details.'

'The issue is being dealt with your eminence. The King has agreed that I can conduct my own investigation into the attack on my men.'

The Cardinal smiled. At least Treville thought it was a smile, it could just have easily been a sneer.

'You do not understand. I want to help catch the spy.'

Treville could not help hiding his shock at the statement. How did the Cardinal know about the spy?

'You are wondering how I know?' said the Cardinal, who Treville had often suspected could read minds, 'I am an intelligent man Treville. I knew about the relic being sent to Dordogne. I asked the King to refrain from letting the item be sent away, but he was insistent…the King is…' the Cardinal paused trying to think of a suitable word, 'childish on occasion.'

Treville realised there was no point in denying the incident or why it had happened.

'You want to help, how?' Treville asked as directly as he could.

'I believe what you need to draw out your spy…' replied the Cardinal quietly after glancing around to ensure no one was within earshot, '…is to lay a trap. And the trap will require some bait…which I am willing to supply for you.'

MMMM

'Richelieu is willing to potentially sacrifice four of his red guard for this?'

'Yes.'

'He is really quite ruthless.'

'Yes.'

Treville could not quite believe what the Cardinal had proposed. He had clearly thought the situation through. He was to prepare one of his own religious relics for delivery to a cathedral in the south of the country. It would be accompanied by four of his red guard. He would make it quite clear throughout the palace that the relic was precious and irreplaceable.

But, the Cardinal was not willing to relinquish the real bones of Saint Judoc. No, he would be sending a fake. But the spy would not know this, the spy would believe the real bones were to be delivered.

The plan was for the Cardinal to announce the information to the King at a time when many of the courtiers were in attendance. Treville and Athos would also be there to observe the courtiers and the hope was that they would see a reaction from one.

With luck, the spy would send a message to the people behind the attempted theft of the Kings relic. The hope was that they could capture all those involved and not just the spy.

Treville was impressed, the plan was good, although typically conniving. What shocked both he and Athos was the callous use of the Cardinal's own guards. If the men delivering the relic were attacked, they would most likely be killed or taken. The Cardinal had said this was a reasonable sacrifice to stop the people behind the thefts. It was obvious the Cardinal was more interested in preventing further theft of religious artefacts and he had no interest in avenging the attack on the musketeers.

MMMM

They searched the house. None of the rooms threw up any clues. There were no papers that told them anything, no property that looked out of place. Nothing.

Aramis was just about to call out to d'Artagnan who was looking through the kitchen again when he heard the floorboard creak in the hallway. He did not recall hearing the front door open and believing it to be d'Artagnan, he walked out to meet him.

It was not d'Artagnan. It was one of the men who had been with Ruiz and Briand. The thug that had held the gun forcing Porthos to allow himself to be chained up. The two men stared at each other for a few second. Both shocked to be coming face to face with the other. It was only d'Artagnan's arrival that broke their silent stares.

The man turned and retreated out of the house, back out onto the street. Without thinking, Aramis followed, d'Artagnan a step behind.

The road was busy with pedestrians and a few horses. But Aramis was able to see the retreating figure. He ran after him, dodging around anyone who was in his way. He knocked a man down who shouted curses at him as he sped away. There was no time for pleasantries or apologies.

Aramis was fairly sure he was gaining on the man as he turned into another road on the right.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

This was not what d'Artagnan had wanted to be doing today. He had expected to be walking and sitting a lot. He had expected to be searching the house where Porthos and Aramis had been held and possibly watching for people who could have been involved.

He did not expect to be chasing after Aramis, who was, in turn chasing after one of the thugs that had helped to keep him and Porthos captive. D'Artagnan thought he recognised the man, but his view of the hired thugs had been limited from his hiding place.

The bruises he had received falling down the stairs when he had been fighting with Briand were not helping in his pursuit, he was able to keep up fairly well but not as well as he normally would.

He watched Aramis disappear around a corner. He reached the corner and turned into the quieter road. He was surprised to see Aramis had stopped chasing the man and was stood in the middle of the road hunched over with his hands on his knees. He was breathing heavily.

D'Artagnan came to a stop by Aramis, 'are you alright?' he asked.

Aramis nodded, but did not reply, he was taking deep breathes trying to steady himself.

'He's long gone now,' said d'Artagnan glancing along the now empty road, 'are you hurt?'

'No,' gasped Aramis, still trying to catch his breath, 'just…couldn't keep up.'

D'Artagnan grabbed his friend by the shoulders as he swayed. He pulled Aramis up, so that he was standing and helped him over to the side of the road where a couple of crates would make do as a seat for the obviously exhausted musketeer. D'Artagnan pushed Aramis down onto one and stood back to look at him.

Aramis looked ashen, his shoulder heaving with each breath. He was shaking slightly. He remembered how concerned Porthos had been that morning before they had set out. Aramis had assured them that he had slept well. But the man before him was clearly not as well as he had been making out.

'You shouldn't have come today. You should have stayed in bed, and actually slept. You're exhausted,' admonished d'Artagnan.

Aramis finally looked up as he managed to get his breathing under control. At least he had the sense to look contrite.

'Yes,' he said nodding, 'but I didn't want to wait. I wanted to help find the men who did this to Porthos and I…you won't…you don't have to tell the others…I…'

'If you promise to get some rest when we get back to the garrison, I won't tell anyone…this time.'

'Thank you,' said Aramis looking down at the ground again.

MMMM

Porthos was out of bed, he had not been allowed to go further than a chair next to the bed. But even that small achievement was something. Lemay had visited earlier in the day and declared his assorted injuries as healing well. Time was the only medicine that was really going to work. He just had to wait it out. The broken arm would heal, but not for a few weeks.

He would be allowed out, as far as the garrison training ground in the next couple of days, when he could walk without limping too much. He was, after all, officially dead. Whilst the other musketeers of the regiment could be trusted to keep up the pretence that he had died of his wounds, the general populous of Paris were probably not as reliable.

He sat now listening to the details of his colleagues work during the day. The plan of Richelieu was interesting, if worrisome. They were not fans of the red guard but for men to be sent on a potentially fatal errand without even knowing it was not good. He hoped, that should the red guard with the fake relic be attacked, they would be able to defeat their foe.

D'Artagnan had relayed the search of the house where they had been held and the brief but fruitless chase of one of the hired thugs. Porthos noticed that d'Artagnan had glanced at Aramis a few times whilst speaking about chasing the thug. Aramis had remained silent, not making eye contact with the others. Porthos again wondered if Aramis was really fit enough to be working, he looked tired, despite the obvious attempts he was making to hide the fact.

He could only hope that his friend would sleep better, in his own bed. But somehow, Porthos doubted it.

MMMM

How the Cardinal made any visit to him seem like a privilege was beyond Athos. The man was so full of his own self-importance it made him appear arrogant without any effort at all. But he was helping them. It was obvious he was only helping them because it helped himself, but it was help none the less.

'You realise your men may be injured, or worse,' reiterated Athos.

'Yes, yes, but that is of no consequence. What sacrifices' they make will be worth it.'

'Probably not to their families,' muttered Athos under his breath.

Richelieu was reaching a small box down from a shelf. He placed it on the table beside an identical one. He opened the one he had just placed there. Inside was a piece of cloth with what Athos believed to be depictions of creatures from distant lands. Richelieu treated the cloth with utmost dignity. He gently removed the cloth which was wrapped around something.

'This,' said reverently, 'is the Shroud of Saint Josse, also known as Judoc, who's bones are wrapped within. Few people know exactly what the design of the shroud depicts so I believe we can safely substitute it with a similar cloth.'

He opened the second box, within which was another cloth. Similar in colour and design, the second cloth appeared newer, but still aged enough to be convincing.

'I have added a few bones to make the copy complete. The late pauper will not miss his fingers.'

Athos had to hold his tongue. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last time he wished he could take his sword and run the Cardinal through.

'You are sure these religious thieves will not know the deception?'

'Yes, as I said, very few people know what the shroud looks like. And the chances of the heathens that will be sent to steal the relic being educated to any level is very low. I believe this will work adequately.'

'When do you plan to begin the deception?'

'I will mention the delivery of the relic later today. The King has an audience with most of his courtiers, and, as we are expecting our spy to be a courtier or a close servant of the King they are most likely to be there.'

Athos hoped the plan would work, and that the Cardinal would not make it too obvious that this was a subterfuge to root out the spy in their midst.

MMMM

Now that they were using Richelieu's plan to find the spy there was no need for Aramis and d'Artagnan to find the men who had kidnapped the musketeers. Porthos was glad of this, he knew that if the plan did not work they would have to start looking again, but, he hoped, he would be well enough by then to join his friends in the search.

Aramis was sat opposite him playing a hand of cards. Porthos had demanded Aramis stay with him for a while. He wanted time to talk to his friend, to try to work out what was clearly bothering him. Aramis was putting on a great performance. He had told the others that he had again slept well and was ready for whatever he was needed for in their search. When Treville had said that he would not be needed he had, for a few seconds looked upset, but he had quickly put the mask back up. He had joked with the others and offered to help at the palace but Treville had declined saying he and Athos were all that was needed at that time.

Porthos had again, noted that d'Artagnan was keeping a wary eye on the marksman. He had wanted to talk to d'Artagnan but the young man had sidled off to visit Constance whilst he had the opportunity.

'How did you sleep last night…really?' Porthos decided to try a direct approach with his obstinate friend.

'As I said, well. Better than last night,' replied Aramis as he lost another round of cards.

Porthos looked at him, although he was holding himself upright and outwardly appeared fine, his eyes told a different story. Aramis was not making eye contact, which was unusual, unless he was lying. Porthos realised that his friend was clearly too tired to realise that he was giving himself away.

But it was also clear that Aramis was not ready to accept that he was not alright.

'If you want to talk about it, you know where I am?'

'What do I need to talk about? I can't even remember what happened. I think, my friend, that you are reading far too much into this,' Aramis paused, he then, to Porthos' surprise made eye contact with him, and held it saying, 'I am fine. A little weary from the events of our incarceration, but really there is nothing for you to worry about.'

Porthos was still not convinced.

MMMM

The King had been briefed by himself shortly before the Cardinal arrived. Treville had quietly spoken out of earshot of the courtiers and servants. He said that the Cardinal was about to put the plan into action. The King, with unusual restraint had nodded and calmly walked away from Treville.

Raising from his bow Treville took a few steps back so that he could observe the room. Athos was already stood opposite taking in the various court hangers on.

Treville wondered how anyone could spend all their time fawning over the King. He was fond of the impetuous man but also found him infuriating at times. The manner that he treated people could vary from showering them in compliments to practically having them arrested for the slightest wrong doing. Treville had watched many times as courtiers had been sent on their way for answering the King in a manner that displeased him.

The doors opened and the Cardinal entered, he swept in, approaching the King with barely a glance at anyone else in the room. It was clear for all to see that the Cardinal felt that he was an equal to the King. After a quick bow, he waited for the King to speak first.

'Well Cardinal, what is it that sees you disturbing me, is there some urgent matter of state that you require my opinion on?'

Treville glanced at Athos who raised his eyebrows. The King was playing his part well. They both knew that some of the Kings behaviour was exaggerated. He was, when needed, a consummate actor.

'Oh no great affair of state your majesty,' began the Cardinal, who was also taking to his part in the deception, 'I merely wish to know if you would like to see the relic of Saint Judoc one more time before I have it delivered to its new home in two weeks' time. I wish to place it within its reliquary tonight and have the key sent separately for safeties sake.'

Treville and Athos scanned the room. The courtiers were, of course, listening intently. None seemed to be reacting overtly, they were all good at only reacting in a manner that would please the King. Treville was amused at the irony of this room full of actors, trying not to make a costly mistake. Only the King, and possibly the Cardinal could get away with forgetting their lines.

'I do not think so Cardinal, you may package up your little relic, it is of little consequence to me if you are sending it away.'

The Cardinal bowed and excused himself from the room. Once the doors had closed the courtiers resumed the quiet conversations they had ceased during the brief conversation between the King and the Cardinal.

Treville's attention was drawn to one courtier who was edging towards the door. The King had deliberately made himself busy talking to a visiting nobleman who they knew could not be the spy. This meant that, with luck, the spy would be able to leave without feeling they had to excuse themselves. They wanted the spy to slip out.

The man slowly making his way towards the door was not one of the courtiers Treville knew by name. He had been in the Kings favour a few months. Treville believed he was the son of a wealthy, titled merchant living in Paris. He was in his mid-twenties, with blonde hair and a slight build.

Treville caught Athos eye and nodded towards the man, Athos nodded back, he had already been watching the retreating man. Treville watched as Athos discreetly followed the disappearing courtier.

With luck, the plan was working.

MMMM

The courtier walked from the Palace with purpose, he did not look round. He was not out of place where he was so had no need to think he would be questioned. This behaviour worked in Athos' favour, it meant he could follow the young man with ease. Once they were out on the streets of Paris however Athos had to close the gap between them to ensure he did not lose the man.

Most of the courtiers lived close to the palace so Athos was not expecting to have to follow the man for long. Within a few minutes the man stepped into a modest house. Athos took up a position across the road and observed. He was rewarded by the site of the young man reappearing a few minutes later with a servant. They walked, together to the rear of the house where a small stable housed two horses. The courtier watched as the servant saddled one of the horses and mounted up. The young man said a few words to the servant and handed him a sealed letter. It was clear from their manner that the servant was taking an unexpected trip and that haste was required. Slapping the horse on the flank as the servant urged the beast on, the young courtier followed the horse and rider back to the road and watched them disappear out of sight.

Athos had seen enough; a message had been dispatched. He knew where the spy lived, returning with reinforcements the following day to question the man was the next step. They did not know how much, if anything, the courtier would know, but they needed to find out.

MMMM

 _He pulled at the chains, the metal biting into his wrists, he could feel blood dripping but he did not care._

 _His arms were screaming with the strain as he pulled._

 _If only he could get free of his bonds._

 _Porthos was dying._

 _He could not reach him._

Aramis woke with a start, sweating and breathing hard. Another dream. Another flash of memory. But the memories were always of the same thing. Being chained up, unable to help Porthos.

He wished he could remember more of their captivity. He thought that remembering the events would help him to put it behind him.

He had barely slept at all since their rescue. He had woken from his drugged state tired and had remained tired ever since. Feeling more exhausted with each passing hour. He wondered if this was a side effect of the drug he had been given.

Should he talk to the others about his difficulty sleeping? He knew it was having a detrimental effect on him, and that the others would notice. Porthos was already suspicious. But it made him feel pathetic. They had all been through traumatic events before and not been affected. No, he would get over this, he just had to hide it from the others until he did.

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The spy had been identified as Jerome Bardet. He was an unremarkable man, he did not offer much to the Royal Household and appeared to only be there due to his father's influence and an ability to sweet talk the King.

Athos, therefore did not see any issue with paying him a visit and asking him some pointed questions. They were sure Bardet was the spy, his behaviour, according to a trusted source of the Cardinal had been erratic for a couple of days recently, tying in with the attack on Porthos and Aramis. And now, he had despatched a servant with an apparently urgent message immediately after learning about another religious relic about to be transported out of Paris.

Now that the message had been despatched it would not hurt to confront the spy and find out if he knew anything that could help them find the people who were trying to steal the religious relics. Although they expected the courtier to be very low in the chain of command he may have some information for them.

D'Artagnan, Aramis and Athos approached the house. As they reached the door, d'Artagnan peeled away and snuck around the back of the building on the off chance that Bardet panicked and tried to escape from the rear.

After knocking Athos stood back from the door. A few seconds went by and the door was opened by Bardet himself. He looked a little shocked to see two musketeers at his door.

'Good morning,' began Athos, 'My name is Athos and this is Aramis, we are Kings musketeers and would like to ask you a few questions.'

Bardet's eyes widened further, he appeared to recognise Aramis' name. Aramis could not help a slight smile. Athos managed to jab him in the side when he noticed. What Athos did not want was the usually talkative musketeer to say something to scare the young courtier into silence. For once Athos was glad that Aramis had been unusually quiet for the last few days.

'Come…come in,' stuttered Bardet, indicating for them to enter.

'After you,' replied Athos, not falling for such an obvious attempt to evade them.

Bardet reluctantly led the way to a small well-appointed sitting room. He pointed at two chairs, Athos sat in one whilst Aramis stood by the door watching the young man intently. Bardet sat in a chair opposite Athos, glancing up at Aramis every few seconds.

'What can I help you with?'

Bardet was sweating, clearly worried. Athos took his time with his reply, stringing out the torture of the man.

'Who was the message for?'

'What?'

'The message that you sent yesterday.'

Bardet stared at Athos, incredulous.

'You sent your servant away, on horseback, with a message. Who was it for?'

Bardet had paled, Athos wondered if he might faint.

'Um…'

'You can answer our questions here, or at the Chatelet?'

If the young man went any paler Athos thought he might have to call a doctor.

'Um…message…um…to…er…'

Bardet was still glancing up at Aramis, it was clear that his presence was not helping their interviewee.

'Aramis, would you mind stepping out, perhaps you could send d'Artagnan in?'

Aramis nodded, not taking his eyes off the clearly frightened courtier. He left the room. Athos turned back to Bardet who was staring at the space Aramis had recently occupied.

'Do I need to ask the question again?'

MMMM

Porthos had managed to sneak out of the infirmary and was sitting at the table in the garrison yard. He knew he had been spotted but as no one had ordered him back to the infirmary he thought he was probably safe to stay where he was for a couple of hours. He was enjoying the fresh air. And watching the cadets being taught by the commissioned musketeers was entertaining.

Treville wandered over, he sat opposite Porthos and poured himself a cup of water from the jug on the table.

'How are you feeling this morning?'

'Better, bored. But better than the last couple of days.'

'At least you are not limping as much now.'

'No. It's really just my arm, that is causing me pain now,' lied Porthos. He still hurt all over, but he did not want to be banished back to the infirmary by his Captain.

'I see,' replied Treville, clearly not believing Porthos, but willing to overlook it.

'I'm worried about Aramis.'

Treville looked at him, waiting for him to continue. Porthos took a moment to phrase his next statement carefully.

'I think he's been affected by it, our captivity, more than he is letting on…he's not sleepin' and when he does he's having bad dream, or something.'

'How do you know? The last couple of nights he has been back in his own room.'

'The night in the infirmary, I was struggling to sleep and every time I was awake he was mumbling in his sleep…and you only have to look at him to see how tired he is.'

Treville waited until Porthos had finished. He thought for a few moments then replied, 'I am sure he is fine, let's give him another couple of days. If you still think he is hiding something I will talk to him.'

Porthos realised Treville was not going to entertain the idea that Aramis was not ready to be working. He decided to talk to Athos and d'Artagnan, he knew there would be no point confronting Aramis. Aramis would just deny there was anything wrong and make every effort to hide it from them.

MMMM

'I really don't know much. They…they pay me for any information I can give them.'

Bardet had calmed down a bit now that Aramis was not in the room. D'Artagnan had been a little surprised when Aramis had appeared around the corner and stated he had been banished from the interview as he appeared to be upsetting the courtier. It was the first time since their rescue that d'Artagnan had seen a proper smile on the marksman's face. He seemed positively pleased to have been dismissed from the courtier's presence.

D'Artagnan was now stood in the same spot that Aramis had taken a few minutes earlier. Bardet was clearly ready to talk.

'Ruiz, helped me out, he paid off a small gambling debt I had. All he wanted was for information about relics being moved about. Nothing else. I happened to see the notes that Monsieur Treville left behind and I realised the King was sending a reliquary to Dordogne. That was the first time I gave any information to Ruiz…'

The young man seemed genuine. He certainly seemed contrite. D'Artagnan felt a bit sorry for him. Bardet did not know that after they had finished with him he would be taken to the Chatelet. He would be kept there at least until the people behind the attempted theft and the attack on Aramis and Porthos had been dealt with. His future was very uncertain.

'Do you know where Ruiz is?' asked Athos.

'No…' the young man replied, although there was a slight flicker of his eyes, d'Artagnan suspected he was lying.

'Are you sure?'

'Yes…I…no…I mean yes I am sure I don't know where he is…I…um…I know that he is not their leader.'

'Who is their leader?'

'Oh, I don't know that,' the young man said, d'Artagnan believed this answer.

Athos turned to d'Artagnan and nodded. D'Artagnan knew that meant the interview was over and the young man was about to be arrested. He slipped out of the small house and beckoned the four guards over that had accompanied them.

Bardet complained quiet a lot as he was forced out of his house and away down the road. They watched him until he was out of sight.

MMMM

Ruiz rose from his prayers. He had been fervently praying for an hour. He quietly left the chapel.

The abandoned church that they had taken as their base of operations was calm and away from the town. The locals knew it was there and probably knew that people were living here but none had been curious to investigate.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper with the short message. It had been delivered to him that morning and was the cause of his need for prayer. The message had been simple and direct. The other musketeer was dead. The unfortunate man who was taken at the same time as Aramis had clearly died of his injuries.

Ruiz had not wanted anyone to be hurt at the time. He had thought the musketeer Aramis would have given the information he had easily. Ruiz had been mistaken, at first, he thought, as Briand had, that Aramis was holding back because he was protecting the information. It was only after the other one had been badly injured that Ruiz had finally believed what Aramis had said from the start; that he did not know anything.

Afterwards, as he had travelled back to their base of operations, Ruiz had regretted letting the men live. Briand had been correct, they should have been killed. It would, perhaps, have been a kindness to the other musketeer. But more than that, it now meant that he could not return to Paris for fear of being recognised by Aramis. An assumed name could not disguise his face.

He knew now, that given the opportunity, he would kill Aramis.

MMMM

Treville had gathered the four musketeers together in his office. They were spread across the room, Porthos gratefully sat in a chair, Aramis stood beside him leaning against the wall. D'Artagnan and Athos stood by his desk.

'Our plan has been set in motion. The spy is caught, and his message to the people responsible has been despatched. Other than keeping vigilant I do not believe there is much more we can do until the relic is sent on its way in two weeks' time,' he paused and glanced at his men.

Did Aramis look tired? Perhaps Porthos was correct, perhaps he had rushed the musketeer back to his work too quickly. His injuries had been minor compared to Porthos'. The drug had, they believed, worn off quite quickly and he was well enough physically. But he had been unusually quiet over the last three days. Treville had noticed Aramis staring off into the distance unfocused when he did not know he was being watched.

But now, that there was nothing to be done for a few days Treville decided to keep a closer eye on Aramis. He would assign him tasks that kept him near the garrison.

'We will reconvene when we are ready to start the second part of the plan.'

'Potentially sacrificing four Red Guard,' muttered Athos.

'I agree,' said d'Artagnan, 'why can't they be told what they are really doing when they are sent off on their delivery?'

'I know, but that is, unfortunately, not my decision to make. The Cardinal was quite clear when he said they were not to be told, and you two,' Treville looked towards Athos and d'Artagnan, 'must not interfere when they are attacked. If they overpower the attackers, good, we will have people to interrogate,' he paused again when he noticed Aramis stiffen at the word 'interrogate'.

Treville continued, 'but if they are injured…or killed, you will have to follow the attackers. You will not be able to help the guards.'

D'Artagnan shook his head whilst Athos looked away. Treville knew that, although there had always been animosity between the Kings Musketeers and the Red Guard, neither side would approve of this part of the plan.

Treville dismissed the man and went back to his work wondering if this was all a big mistake.

MMMM

A week later and Aramis was still only getting a couple of hours sleep a night. It was becoming harder to hide the lethargy he felt. Just managing to reach morning muster was a struggle. The only way he had managed to sleep through the night had been to drink more than his usual amount of wine. He had taken to finishing off a bottle in his room at night. But even that was not working each night. He was still waking suddenly in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and breathing hard.

The images were still of the chains that he was restrained by. The palpable feelings of helplessness. Not being able to help Porthos.

He longed to sleep without dreaming, or waking confused, several times each night.

He also longed for the cadet he was sparring with to be worse than he was. They trained their cadets to a high standard. Normally, however, he would have had the young man disarmed and probably on the floor by now. But today he was struggling. He knew it was the fatigue. He knew he should just tell the others he needed to stop. To rest. To get some help to sleep. But he could not.

He could not tell them he was having bad dreams. He was a musketeer. He should not have this kind of problem.

The cadet thrust forward again, Aramis sidestepped and intended to sweep his sword down and across but a wave of dizziness washed over him instead. His vision was becoming fuzzy.

MMMM

It was a bright morning, Porthos was again sat at the table enjoying watching the training. D'Artagnan was helping with some drills and Aramis was sparring with a cadet.

Porthos really was feeling better now. Only his broken arm preventing him from returning to his duties, that and the continued subterfuge that he was dead. He wondered how long he would have to remain hidden in the garrison for.

He knew that eventually there would be a need to investigate the relic collector's hideout, and he hoped that he would be fit for duty by then. Although he would have to travel in disguise, at least he could get out of the garrison and be useful again. He was, after all, their element of surprise. He hoped they would get to see Ruiz again. He wanted to deal with that man personally.

Aramis was sparring, badly, with one of the new cadets. He was making many mistakes, he was slow and telegraphing him movements. The cadet probably thought he was making the fight deliberately easy, but Porthos knew that was not the case.

As he watched, Porthos became increasingly concerned about Aramis. His friend looked pale and he was blinking, as if he was trying to clear his vision.

It still shocked him, when Aramis collapsed to the ground.

MMMM


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Treville watched his musketeers and cadets training. It filled him with pride to see such a well-oiled team of men. Their movements were graceful and intuitive. Most of them were. He began to think he should have heeded Porthos' words from the previous week. Aramis looked awful, he was clearly not well. He looked tired, his movements were laboured and he was losing his fight with the young cadet he was sparring with.

He decided that it was time to talk to Aramis, he would take him to one side and order him to talk to him if he had to. When Aramis fell to the ground he realised he should have acted sooner.

As Treville made his way across the garrison yard he shooed the curious cadets away, 'carry on, this does not concern you,' he said firmly. The last thing Aramis needed was an audience.

Athos was already by his fallen comrade and Porthos reached them at the same time as Treville. Treville caught Porthos' eye and silently apologised for ignoring his warning.

'Why am I on the ground?' asked Aramis, blinking and trying to push himself up.

'You collapsed,' replied Athos as he helped his friend to sit up.

Treville crouched on the other side of Aramis, who looked pale, 'Aramis…when was the last time you slept…properly…do not lie to me.'

Aramis looked at Treville then looked away, 'I haven't slept, properly, since you found us…I thought it would get better…'

Treville reached out and gently squeezed Aramis' shoulder, 'you are going to the infirmary and you are going to stay there until I say so,' he gave Aramis a pointed look when the marksman started to protect, 'consider it your punishment for not telling us you were unfit for duty…I'll get Lemay to visit you, perhaps he can give you something to help him sleep.'

He hooked his arm under Aramis' as Athos did the same on his other side. They pulled him up, not letting him go until they were certain he was not going to simple crumple to the floor. At least he has the sense to look contrite, thought Treville. He nodded towards Porthos who stepped forward and took Aramis by the arm to guide him towards the infirmary.

Treville turned to the shocked cadet that Aramis had been sparring with, 'not your fault son, your sparring partner needs to learn to take better care of himself. Go and find Lemay and ask him to visit at his earliest convenience.'

The cadet nodded and trotted out of the garrison in search of the doctor.

'I should have listened to Porthos,' sighed Treville as he turned back to return to his office.

'Yes, we should have noticed sooner, but he is very good at hiding his injuries from us,' replied Athos.

MMMM

Another message delivered to the zealots and brought to Ruiz's attention had many of them gathered together. Ruiz was keen to redeem himself in the eyes of their leader, an imposing man called, Pottier.

'I propose that we intercept this relic. Saint Judoc should be revered by those who understand, not the paupers who are looking for pointless miracles,' said Pottier.

The group murmured their agreement. Ruiz stepped forward.

'I shall coordinate the collection of this precious relic my Lord.'

Pottier smiled at Ruiz, he paused before speaking again contemplating the man. Ruiz wondered if he had spoken out of turn. He was desperate to get himself back into the favoured position he had been in prior to the debacle with the musketeers.

When Pottier finally spoke, Ruiz was relieved by his words, 'yes, my son, you can manage the recovery, although you will not be risking yourself, you will be sending some of our faithful followers.'

Ruiz was relieved, not only was he being given the chance to make up for his mistake, he also was not being put into danger in doing so.

Ruiz nodded his thanks, and left his leader to start planning and despatching men to recover the relic.

MMMM

Porthos had threatened to tie Aramis to the bed in the infirmary if he did not lie down. Aramis had baulked at the suggestion. Porthos thought he might have found it humorous but he had merely looked away as he settled on one of the beds. He had laid back and shut his eyes, although Porthos knew Aramis was not trying to sleep, he did fall asleep within a few minutes. His pained expression easing as he fell into a deeper slumber.

He wished he had been firmer with Treville the previous week. Now Aramis had collapsed in front of the entire garrison. He knew his friend was embarrassed by what had happened, but it served him right. Despite his friend's idiocy, Porthos would remain by his side until he recovered.

It was only a few minutes before the first dream started, Aramis began mumbling and moving about, as if trying to escape from some hidden foe.

Porthos stepped forward, settling on the edge of the bed ready to intervene if his friend became too distressed. The dream only lasted a couple of minutes but by the time Aramis settled he was drenched in sweat. Porthos realised this must have been happening for two weeks. It was no wonder that his friend had finally succumbed to the lack of sleep.

MMMM

It had been nearly four weeks since he and Porthos had been kidnapped. Porthos' arm was healing well. Lemay had said that in another week he would be able to return to duty, although he would have to be careful not to put too much strain on the injury.

Lemay had also said that Aramis could return to full duties, again, but this time with Treville's blessing. He had reluctantly accepted help from Lemay, who had given him several sleeping draughts. When he had been hesitant to take a drug to help him sleep Lemay had seen his problem. He had assured the musketeer that his drug would not have an adverse effect, unlike the one he had been forced to take when he had been held captive.

After several nights where he had slept without waking until morning he had felt refreshed and ready to return to work. The conciliatory meeting with Treville had been awkward, but necessary. He had also made a point to apologies to his friends and the poor cadet he had been sparring with when he had collapsed.

Now he was trying to wean himself off the sleeping drug, only taking the draught every other night. So far it seemed to be working. He was still getting the occasional flashes of images from their incarceration, still disjointed and mainly highlighting his restraint and frustration, he hoped they would fade with time.

He knew Porthos was still keeping a close eye on him and he was grateful for his friend's support. Porthos was careful not to make it too obvious, but Aramis knew.

For now, he was happy to get back to some form of normality. Although he knew they would soon begin the next phase of the plan to catch the men behind the incident that had started the whole chain of events.

MMMM

The King was listening intently as Treville outlined the rest of their plan to catch the gang of relic thieves. They had, over the course of the last month gathered intelligence from several sources. Stories of ransacked cathedrals and churches. Private homes robbed and individuals attacked. All had one thing in common. All had a religious relic, and all of them had been stolen. It had become clear that these people were intent on collecting as much as they could.

'They are zealots, your majesty, they are akin to insane people. They feel the needs to gather all the relics for their own nefarious reasons. I wish I could understand why. Why deprive the greater populous the security of these precious items? The people need the hope that such items bring.'

Treville did not quite agree with the Cardinal, he was not an ardent religious man, but he did appreciate the rare suspension of hostilities between them. The Cardinal had even enquired after the health of Porthos and Aramis after he had heard the full details of their kidnapping.

'Yes, yes Cardinal, I agree they need to be stopped and between the two of you it will be done. I have every faith in you. When will you start?' asked the King.

'The fake relic is prepared, and my men are ready. They will leave at first light tomorrow,' said the Cardinal, who turned to Treville, 'I trust your men are ready also, and they know and understand their orders?'

'Yes, they will be ready,' Treville replied, he knew he could trust Athos and d'Artagnan not to interfere. He knew that it would be difficult for them, but they would just observe and then follow the attackers leaving the red guard to their fate.

MMMM

'I hate this,' said d'Artagnan for what felt like the hundredth time.

Athos sighed, 'I know…I am not pleased with the plan either, but we have our orders. We are to observe and then follow the attackers.'

'Normally I would just think, they are only Red Guard, but this is so callous of the Cardinal,' mused Porthos.

They were in the stables, Athos and d'Artagnan were saddling their horses and checking their supplies before leaving. It was barely light, but they had to be in position to follow the Red Guard before the ill-fated men left their garrison. Both men were in civilian clothes, although their musketeer uniforms were hidden away in their saddle bags. They had no intention of remaining in disguise any longer than they had to.

'I wish I could accompany you,' said Aramis as he stroked the soft nose of d'Artagnan's horse.

'You could be recognised, we do not know who will be in the ambush. Ruiz could be there,' said Athos looking over at his friend.

Athos was pleased that Aramis was much more his normal self. Although he was still quieter than normal, he was clearly sleeping better and did not seem as withdrawn as he had been before his collapse.

'And I need you here, so that you can stop me from trying to use my busted arm,' retorted Porthos with a grin.

Aramis smiled at him, before turning back to Athos who was mounting his horse, he said, 'be careful…don't get caught.'

Athos did not miss the slight tremor in his voice, Aramis was still haunted by the attack on him and Porthos.

'We will be careful,' said d'Artagnan who had picked up on the inference as well.

As the horses walked from the stable they both turned and nodded their goodbyes to Treville who had stepped out of his room to see them off. Porthos and Aramis watched them go.

'They'll be fine,' said Porthos.

'I hope so,' replied Aramis.

MMMM

They followed at a discreet distance behind the Red Guard. They knew the route that would be taken so could hang back on the straighter roads only closing in when they either turned a corner or negotiated a sweeping bend.

'Did you suffer any after effects from being stuck in that cupboard?' asked Athos.

D'Artagnan was a little confused by the sudden question from Athos. Initially he did not know what his superior meant. He realised Athos was referring to the time spent trapped, in the cupboard next to the room that Aramis and Porthos had been held in.

'You mean, like Aramis did, with bad dreams and not being able to sleep?'

'Yes.'

'No, I didn't,' he paused thinking about their different imprisonments, 'but I could've escaped…it would have been dangerous and probably foolhardy, but I could've done.'

'So, you did not feel as trapped as Aramis?'

'I suppose…and from what Porthos has said, Aramis was kept chained up whilst he was allowed to move around unrestrained…Porthos said that Aramis became quite frustrated and upset by that.'

They trotted on for a while in silence.

'Do you think he will ever remember what happened?' asked d'Artagnan, 'He's said he gets the odd flash of a memory, but not the whole thing. Perhaps if he were to remember it would help him recover?'

'The human mind is a mysterious thing, d'Artagnan. If he is meant to remember it, he will.'

'This is similar.'

It was Athos' turn to be confused. He looked at d'Artagnan, puzzled.

'This…what we are about to do…this will be like my time stuck in that cupboard. I couldn't hear everything that was going on in the room where they were being kept, but I heard enough to know it was not good.'

He shuddered at the memory of Aramis shouting and Porthos' cry of pain when his arm was broken.

'We are most likely going to watch those men,' he nodded towards the Red Guard in front of them, 'get attacked and we won't be able to do anything about it.'

'I see, what you mean,' said Athos.

They continued following the soldiers in silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

MMMM

They had spent an uncomfortable night as close to the road as they could. They had to keep the Red Guard in sight, but not let them know they were being watched. They had to take turns to keep watch on both the guards and their surroundings.

They could not relax, as they had to be ready at a moment's notice. If the attack happened at night, they had to be vigilant, they would need to be ready to follow the attackers.

But the attack had not happened overnight and now they were remounted and into their second day following the four unsuspecting men in front of them.

'What if they don't get attacked? This could all be for nothing,' observed d'Artagnan as he swatted away a wasp which had been bothering him.

'It could be for nothing. We would have to go back to poor Monsieur Bardet if that was the case. I am sure he knew more than he was letting on. His stay in the Chatelet will probably have loosened his tongue by now.'

D'Artagnan chuckled as he remembered the frightened courtiers' stuttering replies to Athos' questions.

He looked over at Athos and was just about to ask what he thought Bardet might know when he noted Athos stiffen and stare intently to the left of the men ahead. D'Artagnan knew what that meant; the attack was about to happen.

They manoeuvred the horses to the side of the road and managed to use a small stand of trees to hide unobserved.

The attack was well planned, d'Artagnan knew, with a heavy heart, that the Red Guard did not stand a chance against the robbers.

MMMM

The Red Guard were unprepared and outnumbered. Athos could tell they were going to be defeated quickly and easily by the attackers. The four soldiers had not been particularly vigilant as they were trotting along the road. Athos and d'Artagnan had been following them for nearly two days and they had been none the wiser.

It was a well-known fact that the Kings Musketeers were better soldiers than the Cardinals Red Guard, but they were still trained soldiers and should have been able to hold their own against the ten attackers. Ten men would have been dealt with efficiently by four musketeers. Ten men should have been dealt with relatively efficiently by four Red Guards. Athos was beginning to wonder as he watched the men being overpowered if the Cardinal had chosen these four men because they were not the best in his regiment. Perhaps it was his way of eliminating the men he thought were not up to the standards that he wanted?

The surprise attack had meant that one of the guards was shot and killed instantly. Two of the others had managed to take out three of the attackers and the fourth guard had slain three attackers whilst still mounted. Athos had been impressed with his work. Although the horse rearing and kicking one of the men diminished the achievement a little.

The four remaining attackers were clearly the most efficient of the original ten. The mounted guard was eventually dragged from his horse by two of the zealots and after a short but brutal sword fight he was run through and left writhing on the ground, his guts barely held within his body as the poor man grabbed at the gaping wound.

The other two guards were now faced with two attackers each. They were soon dealt with. Their bodies falling, instantly forgotten by the attackers as they began searching for the reliquary.

'Here,' said one of them as he pulled the small box from a saddlebag. He held it reverently to show the other three who all crossed themselves and appeared to say a prayer. No attempt was made to open the box, it was carefully carried a short distance to the tree line of the copse of trees the men had been hiding in before their ambush.

Two of the men gathered the red guard's horses and led them toward the trees. The other two had busied themselves collecting their own horses and those of their fallen comrades. The group mounted up and began to move along the road.

D'Artagnan exhaled. Athos felt the same. The attack was brutal, several times he had wanted to rush out and help the soldiers. He glanced at d'Artagnan who was looking pale.

'Come on, there is nothing we can do for them now…we mustn't lose sight of the zealots.'

He kicked his horse forward and as d'Artagnan urged his horse to fall into step they began to follow the zealots. This, thought Athos, would be far more dangerous, they did not know where the zealots were going or how long it would take to get there.

MMMM


	5. Chapter 5

Authors note: Thanks for the reviews and follows.

Chapter Five

It was clear the Cardinal had been involved. Treville could sense the man's sly handiwork. The oily man of God had influence in most places. And the Chatelet was one of them.

Bardet had been a guest of the dank, dark and inhospitable place since his arrest. Although he was supposed to be being treated well, it was clear from his current demeanour that he was being treated as any of the other inmates. He was barely being treated to anything. Ignored and left in his cell the man had all but withered away in the few days he had been there.

But the stay had been fruitful, he wanted to give his captors more information, information that he had withheld when he had been questioned by Athos.

Treville knew the Cardinal had 'helped' the frightened young man towards his confession, he did not appear to have been physically harmed but he was ready to talk none the less. The Cardinal had a long reach. He would not get his own hands dirty. He had people to do that for him.

Bardet had been very keen to tell Treville the location of the zealot's retreat. He had never been there himself but he knew that it was only a couple of miles from a small town a few days ride from Paris.

Treville was annoyed that the man had not given this information earlier. The four Red Guard would not have been sent out on what was most likely a one-way trip and Athos and d'Artagnan would not be following, on what could also be a very dangerous journey.

MMMM

They were forced to keep their wits about them, where the Red Guard had been easy to follow the zealots were much more aware of their surroundings. The pair could not follow too closely, but equally could not hang back too far for fear of losing their quarry.

What went in their favour was the number of horses the four zealots were dealing with. Their own and those of the four Red Guard made a fair amount of noise. Athos and d'Artagnan did not have to worry about their own mounts drawing attention. What they had to do was keep out of sight. With so many horses being led, it was also fairly easy to track the group.

The first night they saw the zealots stop to make camp from far enough away that they were easily able to settle themselves to a hurried meal and then a second wakeful night taking it in turns to act as look out.

The zealots broke camp early. Athos had to wake d'Artagnan and be sure they were ready to move as quickly as possible.

The group made their way towards a village, Athos and d'Artagnan skirted round it, watchful and alert. When the zealots reappeared a couple of hours later they were a much smaller party, having divested themselves of the excess of equine followers. The beasts had probably earned them a fair amount of money in the village.

Athos and d'Artagnan knew it would now be harder to track the zealots. They had their work cut out for them.

MMMM

'I am fine now. I'm sleeping properly. I want to do this. I need to do this.'

'I know, but I'm not keen to let you.'

'Don't you trust me?'

'Not really.'

Aramis looked shocked at Treville's reply. The captain sighed and regarded Aramis. The man did look better, his complexion was no longer ashen, his features no longer drawn with fatigue. He was standing at attention with his usual grace and poise.

When Treville had told him about Bardet's confession Aramis had all but demanded to set out for the village. Treville had taken the man by the arm and led him to his office so that he could talk to him privately. He did not want the other members of the garrison to hear him berate one of their best comrades.

'Aramis,' he said firmly, 'I do trust you, in most things, but you were dishonest with us about your state of health. I know I am partly to blame, I should have given you a few days before putting you back to duty. But you should have spoken to me. I would not have judged you.'

He paused as Aramis shifted slightly, obviously embarrassed.

'Sometimes men are traumatised physically and sometimes it is a mental trauma. It affects people differently. What you and Porthos went through was not pleasant. You have nothing to feel ashamed about…'

Aramis had dipped his head and was looking at the floor. Treville thought for a moment then he made up his mind.

'Porthos will be declared fit in a few days' time, I am sure of it…' he glared at Aramis who was about to interrupt, 'in the meantime you can go. But. You will only observe. You will take lodgings in the village, you will watch and you will wait. You will not, under any circumstance try to engage with these people.'

Aramis had regained his ability to stand at attention, every bit the musketeer.

'If you disobey these orders I will have your commission.'

Treville was not sure if he meant it, but it was enough of a threat to Aramis that the man paled a little.

'I will do as you ask.'

'I expect nothing less. Porthos will join you there as soon as he can. With luck Athos and d'Artagnan will find their way to your location as well, if they are not already there.'

Treville waved him away, he paused at the door and turned back, he was about to speak when Treville said, 'just be careful.'

MMMM

Porthos stood in the stables. He seemed to spend most of his time seeing his friends off on dangerous errands. First Athos and d'Artagnan on what had turned out to be a pointless task to follow a fake relic. And now Aramis. Off to spy on the zealots.

He was not entirely happy about the situation. He had said as much to Treville, but Treville had assured him the Aramis would be fine. That he had been told in no uncertain terms that he was only to observe. Porthos doubted Aramis would be capable of that.

'I'll be along as soon as I can. Lemay is going to see me the day after tomorrow, if he clears me for duty I will be on my way within the hour.'

'Only if you are cleared for duty. I don't want you straining that arm. The break may have been a simple one, but it is still a break.'

'I will look after my arm, if you look after yourself,' replied Porthos as he watched Aramis mount up. He was holding the horse's reins, not really wishing to let go. Aramis leaned over and squeezed his shoulder.

'I will be fine. I will not get into any trouble.'

Porthos released the reins and reached up to put his hand over Aramis' for a second before stepping back from his friend to allow him to leave.

As Aramis trotted out of the garrison Porthos shook his head. He was worried his friend was still hiding something. It was true, the man was clearly better than he had been but there was still something haunting his eyes. Porthos wanted to follow straight away. He already knew that even if he was not cleared for duty in two days' time he would be on his way to join the marksman regardless.

MMMM

It was becoming a thankless task. Both of them were near exhaustion, but there was no let up. This should have been a job for more men, but more men would have been more likely to draw attention from their targets.

More than once d'Artagnan had found himself asleep in the saddle. Athos had even had to stop him falling from the saddle at one point. The few hours' sleep they were getting each day was not enough.

They had hardly spoken to each other for the last couple of days. A routine had formed where minimal verbal communication was required.

D'Artagnan hoped they would reach their destination soon. He also hoped they would be able sleep for a few hours, preferably in a bed, before they sought to confront the zealots.

MMMM

The sun was shining. The road was empty. He pushed the horse into a brief gallop. Just for a couple of minutes. It felt glorious. He felt free. For the first time in what felt like weeks he was away from everything.

Porthos was wrong, there was no need to worry about him. Aramis had noticed the look in eyes when he had been saying goodbye.

He could not remember the last time he had suffered from flashes of their incarceration. He was sure he was not dreaming about it any longer, at least they were not waking him up now. He had stopped using the sleeping drug, he did not need it any longer.

And now, Treville had let him leave, alone, to pursue a lead that might bring this sorry affair to a close. One thing he was determined to do, was heed Treville's warning. He would do as he had been told. He would only observe. When the four of them were reunited they could tackle the zealots together.

There was nothing wrong with him any longer. He was sure of it.

MMMM


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Lemay had wanted him to rest the arm for a few more days. But the good doctor had the sense to change his mind when Porthos raised a questioning eyebrow.

True to his word, within the hour he was heading out of Paris. His uniform tucked away in his saddle bag, a hat pulled low over his face. Despite his worry for his friends he was pleased to finally to be out of the garrison.

He knew his arm would likely start to ache, and unlike Aramis, he did not intend to hide that from the others. He would make a point of being honest about it. Not to show Aramis up, but to show him that it was perfectly acceptable to have the occasional moment of weakness.

As soldiers, they were expected to be tough men, to deal with demanding situations with little emotion. But there was still room for empathy, they had to look out for each other and if that meant being a shoulder to lean on, Porthos would oblige. He knew there was still something bothering Aramis. Although he was beginning to think that Aramis did not realise it. His friend appeared, outwardly, to be fine, but he was definitely still troubled.

Porthos wanted to be there when Aramis was ready to unburden himself of whatever it was.

MMMM

On the sixth day, the four zealots again entered an area of habitation, this time a small town. Up to this point, apart from the village where they sold the horses they had kept away from other people.

Rather than try to skirt around the town Athos followed the men along the main road, still at a discreet distance. They watched as the men stopped at a sizable tavern and dismounted. Athos glanced over at d'Artagnan who sighed, his expression weary. The younger man was exhausted, they both were. The prospect of another night under the stars made Athos shudder.

He decided, perhaps rashly, but he was so tired and in need of good wine that he did not care, to walk the horses up to the tavern. He dismounted and indicated for d'Artagnan to do the same. D'Artagnan looked confused. Athos shrugged his shoulders at him saying simply, 'we deserve it.'

D'Artagnan nodded and dismounted, he handed the reins to a stable boy along with a couple of coins from his purse. The lad smiled and took the horses towards the stable.

They entered the tavern, a large room with a roaring fire greeted them. It was fairly busy and they were not greeted with any curious looks. This was clearly an establishment that was used to strangers so they were not going to draw attention to themselves.

Athos scanned the room, he spotted the four zealots at a table. They already had bottles of wine in front of them. He nodded towards an empty table discreetly behind a wooden divide next to the zealots. D'Artagnan made his way towards it as Athos sought out the tavern owner.

'Yes sir,' said a portly middle-aged man from behind the bar, he had a friendly countenance and appeared at ease, 'will you and your young friend be after a room? I still have one available.'

'Thank you, yes. And food.'

'I'll see to it…second on the right at the top of the stairs,' he paused as Athos pushed money into his hands, 'thank you sir. I'll have the food sent over to your table.'

After collecting wine and cups Athos walked over to d'Artagnan. He was rather surprised to find the tired musketeer grinning broadly. He took the seat indicated by d'Artagnan, who leaned in closely to Athos and spoke quietly.

'They can't know I am sat here…they just mentioned the name of the nearest town to their hide out…only another two days ride,' he paused and looked at Athos hopefully, 'do you think we can stay here and actually sleep a whole night, and not worry about being up before they are to continue following them? We know where they are going…I'm willing to take the risk…'

Athos sat back, as d'Artagnan poured wine for them both. He thought about what d'Artagnan had said. It would be a risk to let the men out of their sights, but at the same time, they were both on the edge of collapse. He thought about Aramis collapsing from lack of sleep. He did not fancy doing that in the middle of the countryside.

He nodded at d'Artagnan, who smiled and sank back in his chair sipping his wine. A good night's sleep would do them both a lot of good.

MMMM

Aramis reached the village at noon after two full days riding and a calm few hours on the third day. He found the small tavern, The Hare, which acted as a focal point in the village. A sleepy stable boy took the reins of his horse and directed him to the main room of the inn.

The room was empty save for a slight man checking bottles behind the small bar. The man turned as Aramis approached. He gave a broad smile.

'Do you have rooms?'

'Of course, sir…not much used, but if you will allow my wife to freshen one we will be able to accommodate you tonight.'

'I will be joined in the next couple of days by three other men, can you accommodate us all?'

The tavern keeper's smile broadened further, his eyes lighting up. Aramis suspected that he was probably about to give the man more money for rooms than he usually made over several weeks.

'Yes sir, I will see to it. I have two rooms that will see you and your friends quite comfortable.'

Aramis returned the man's smile with ease, 'thank you.'

MMMM

The young lad, clutched the coins that Ruiz had dropped into his palm tightly.

'Describe the man again…'

'Tall, with a feathered hat, sir. He's booked in at The Hare. I looked in the saddle bag when I took his horse, it had a soldier's uniform in it, sir.'

'Anything else?'

'He had marks on his wrists. I saw them when he gave me some money when I took his horse. Looked like cuts.'

Ruiz knew it was Aramis, it had to be. How was he here? It did not matter; a plan was already forming in his head.

MMMM

Two days later, after a fruitless initial recce around the village Aramis was on his way out of the tavern when the landlord stopped him.

'Monsieur Aramis, you were asking yesterday about strangers in the area?'

Aramis nodded and walked towards the landlord, who he now knew to be called, Remy.

'I know there are people staying at an abandoned farm to the north. I forgot about them until my wife reminded my last night,' he paused, did Aramis detect a look of concern cross the man's usually friendly face? 'I thought you might like to know…I can give you directions…'

A few minutes later after the stable boy had saddled Aramis' horse he was on his way towards the farm house. Just to observe. He knew, that all being well, Porthos would probably be at the tavern when he returned. He had left a message for him, and Athos and d'Artagnan, should they make it to the tavern that day.

He planned to have a good look at the farm house Remy had directed him to and report back to the others, if this was the zealots base they would be able to work out a plan of attack and put an end to their wrong doings.

Aramis had mixed feeling about the zealots, as a religious man he could understand their need to see the relics, but to steal them violently was wrong. It went against everything he believed in. He would like the opportunity to speak with Ruiz if they met, to find out his motives.

But for now, stopping the zealots was the objective.

MMMM

Porthos was pleased with the time he had made. He doubted he could have made the journey any quicker, he had only slept for a few hours each night, setting out again just before dawn each day and riding for as long as the light would allow.

The village was not far off, he hoped Aramis would be there and not out searching. He wanted to check on Aramis. His concern for his friend had not diminished since he watched him leave the garrison a few days before.

The road was lined with woods on both sides but was quiet and Porthos was not worried as there had been no reports of robbers in this area. He was, naturally, always alert. He was not expecting to find a riderless horse trotting towards him. As the horse neared him Porthos could not stop a gasp of shock. The horse was Aramis'. He moved his own mount towards the trotting beast and managed to grab the reins and bring the beast under his control.

The creature looked unharmed, its saddle was slightly loose. Aramis' saddle bags were all accounted for, with the contents still within.

But what had happened to Aramis?

MMMM


	7. Chapter 7

Authors note: I know very little about horses and horse riding so please accept any inaccuracies in this chapter as poetic licence – thanks.

Chapter Seven

Feeling refreshed after their night in the tavern and then a full night's sleep whilst camping Athos was pleased to finally reach the village. They had watched the zealots leave from their room at the tavern. For a moment, they thought the zealots were going to travel in a different direction to the village but they had turned and headed west as expected. Athos had rolled his eyes when d'Artagnan had let out an audible sigh of relief.

'We still have two days of travel to do,' he had said to the musketeer, 'I want to be on the road in half an hour.'

D'Artagnan had replied, 'half an hour is quite the luxury after the few days we have had.'

Athos could not have agreed more. They were now at The Hare, a small tavern in the centre of the village. Unlike the town where they had stayed the night with the zealots, they would draw attention here. None the less Athos pushed the door open and entered the inn.

'Would you be Monsieur Athos?' asked the man at the bar.

Athos was taken aback, 'yes.'

'Monsieur Aramis has left you a message,' he handed over a piece of folded paper, then continued, 'there is a room prepared for you and your friend.'

'Thank you,' said d'Artagnan as Athos read the note from Aramis.

Once he had finished he handed the note to d'Artagnan to read.

'It seems our friend predicted our arrival. He says in his note that you have some good wines here? Whilst we await his return perhaps you could supply us with some. And a hot meal would be appreciated.'

'Of course, sirs, if you would take a seat I will have the wine brought over.'

As they settled themselves down to eat d'Artagnan said, 'I certainly did not expect to find Aramis here. I have to say I'm annoyed that Bardet didn't talk sooner, it would have saved us some sleepless nights…not to mention the red guard their lives,' he finished ruefully.

MMMM

A couple of hours earlier…

After hastily writing his message for the others and leaving it with Remy, Aramis took the reins of his horse from the stable boy and mounted up. He pushed the horse into a canter and left the village by the road the tavern keeper had directed him to.

Once he was out of the village he started to encourage the mare into a gallop but the horse refused. She began to slow down to a trot and finally a walk. The horse became skittish and uneasy, sidestepping and finally coming to a stubborn halt. Aramis tried to urge the creature on but she would not be moved.

Aramis dismounted and started checking the horse over for any injury she may have picked up on their short journey. There were no obvious injuries, he took the reins and walked the mare forward a few paces, she was still skittish. Aramis could not understand what the problem was.

He started to feel around the reins and tack, finally running his hand around the saddle. He fingers caught on something; a stone. He pulled it out and felt again, there were several small stones under the saddle. He had to loosen the saddle in order to find all the objects. This was clearly what was upsetting the horse.

A crunch on the gravel road behind him made him turn, in time to see a fist aimed squarely at his head. The punch was hard, not enough to knock him out but enough to send him reeling back into the horse, which, not taking kindly to being knocked about trotting off up the road. With nothing to lean on Aramis fell to the ground as his world continued to spin.

MMMM

The day before…

'I am pleased with your plan Ruiz,' said Pottier.

'Thank you, my Lord,' replied Ruiz with a small reverent bow, 'do you agree that I must be sure I am to kill the right man. I must see Aramis for myself before I kill him?'

'Yes, my son, it will be your redemption for you mistake, you should have killed them both when you had the chance, they are unbelievers. They fight for a King who does not revere the relics as we do.'

'I know that now, my Lord, I was weak.'

'Go and prepare yourself, it is no easy task to take a man's life, even when the cause is just.'

Ruiz left Pottier and returned to the chapel. He knelt in prayer. Praying for the soul of Aramis, who was soon to die and for that of the other musketeer, who should not have been left to die of his injuries. Ruiz wanted to make amends, he would ensure that Aramis' death was clean and quick.

MMMM

Porthos saw two men ahead, they were crouched over a third man lying on the road binding his arms behind his back, his legs were also bond. Porthos recognised Aramis instantly despite the gag and blindfold covering most of his face.

He urged his horse forward quickly closing the gap. Aramis was fighting against the ropes around his wrist and struggling to move away. He was shouting through the gag but what he was trying to communicate Porthos could not discern. As Porthos approached the two men rose, one of them kicked Aramis hard before he stepped around the bound man to face the approaching threat.

The men were too close to his helpless friend for Porthos to risk attacking them on horseback. He quickly dismounted and drew his gun firing at the closest of the two men. His aim was good, a hit to the chest, the man went down with little complaint. The second man was already advancing on Porthos, sword drawn.

Porthos easily parried the first swipe, and pushed forward to gain an advantage. He had already dropped his spent weapon and drawn his main gauche in order to deflect the enemies attempts to run him through. Porthos managed to nick the man's arm drawing blood and a small cry of pain. The man did not let the injury slow him for long, he lunged forward again, Porthos side stepped bringing his sword down in a fast strike across the man's chest. This time the man had been ready he pulled back just in time and used the momentum to force Porthos to take a step forward unbalancing the musketeer slightly.

Quickly regaining his footing Porthos had to employ his main gauche to fend off an attempt to slice his neck. This brought the man in close to Porthos who used the opportunity to smack him with the hilt of his sword. The man fell back a few steps, it was more than Porthos needed to step forward and push his sword deep into the man's chest. The enemy tried one last time to hurt Porthos raising his arm weakly, but the sword he held was already limply dangling from his hand. It clattered to the floor, followed by the now dead swordsman.

Porthos wasted no time in turning back towards his friend, who was still struggling against the ropes which were binding him.

MMMM

D'Artagnan was returning to the main room of the tavern, as he passed the kitchen he heard a woman talking to Remy. Their conversation was heated.

'What have you done?'

'I didn't know he was lying to me. You said that stranger wanted to know about anyone who was suspicious in the area. I asked Tom, and he said about the people up at the farm house.'

'And now you're telling me that there's no one up there anymore?'

'Yes, it was only when I was speaking to Marie that I found out the place is ruined and nobody is there. And now Tom has disappeared…Remy, what is it?'

'I told Monsieur Aramis about the farm house, he went up there today…he will be annoyed when he finds that no one is there. I don't want to lose their business…why would Tom lie?'

D'Artagnan coughed to let the couple know he was there, 'excuse me, but I couldn't help overhearing, are you saying that my friend went out this morning based on false information…given to you by the stable boy, who is now missing?'

Remy nodded, he and his wife looked worried. D'Artagnan tried to give them a reassuring smile but he was not sure he could. The turn of events was suspicious.

Athos looked up as d'Artagnan approached, 'we might need to go and check on Aramis.'

MMMM

Aramis was clearly panicking, he was pulling at the ropes around his wrists and breathing heavily. As Porthos approached, Aramis tried to move away shouting something unintelligible through the gag.

Porthos grabbed Aramis shoulders saying firmly, 'Aramis, calm down, it's me.'

Aramis continued to struggle making it difficult for Porthos to pull the blindfold off his friend. When he did manage to, he was met with wild unfocused eyes. Aramis had the same terrified look as he had when he had been under the influence of the drug that Briand had given him. Athos had described how the musketeer had looked confused and scared.

It took several goes to pull the gag from Aramis' mouth. Aramis gasped in air and continued to try to pull away from Porthos. Now free of the gag Porthos could understand what Aramis was saying.

'Unchain me, please, I have to help him.'

Porthos tried to keep his voice steady, 'Aramis, look at me, you are not chained up, it's rope. Let me untie it. Let me help you.'

'I need to help him, I'm not interested in you, I need to help Porthos.'

'Aramis. I am Porthos!'

Porthos realised Aramis was not hearing him, he was stuck in some sort of waking nightmare, remembering when he had been chained up. His friend was still struggling against the ropes, Porthos was not sure if untying him whilst he was in this state was such a good idea.

MMMM


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

'Aramis!' Porthos shouted. He had been trying to get his friend to focus on him for a few minutes now. He had a firm grip on his shoulders and was shaking the clearly confused man.

He did not want to, but he could see no other way, he released one hand and slapped Aramis hard across the face.

It had the desired effect.

Aramis went still, and after blinking a few times he looked up at Porthos shocked. He was still breathing heavily but he appeared to be focused.

'You with me?' asked Porthos, Aramis continued to stare at him, 'if I untie you are you going to stay there?'

Aramis looked away confused, he pulled slightly at the ropes as if only now realising he was bound. He nodded.

Porthos made quick work of cutting the ropes with his main gauche. He helped Aramis to sit up, supporting his back when the marksman swayed slightly. He was probably light headed, his panicked breathing still heavy.

'Stay there, I'll get some water.'

Porthos rose and walked over to his horse, he grabbed his water skin and returned to Aramis who had not moved. He handed the water over and the musketeer took a couple of swigs. His breathing was gradually settling down.

Porthos sat on the ground next to Aramis and patiently waited for him to speak. It was clear Aramis was trying to work out what had happened.

'I'm sorry…' he finally said, still a little breathless, 'I…I should have told you…'

'Yes, you should,' although Porthos did not know what Aramis should have told him.

'The images, of you…injured…and I couldn't reach you…'

'But you did reach me, you helped me. I know you don't remember but you did. Whatever they gave you, what they drugged you with, it must have scrambled up your memories…well what little memory you have of it…you managed to reach me.'

Aramis looked off into the distance, his eyes unfocused again. Porthos noticed that his eyes were wet with unshed tears. He did not quite know what to do. He reached his arm around Aramis and pulled him towards him in a hug. Aramis did not resist the move.

They stayed that way for a few minutes. Porthos was not sure if Aramis was actually crying but his shoulders heaved a couple of times. He did not judge his friend, he just wanted him to get through whatever was bothering him.

Aramis sniffed then pushed away from Porthos' embrace. His eyes were red but they were focused again, he did not have the worrying look of fear that had filled them earlier. Porthos noticed a trickle of blood on Aramis temple.

'We need to look at your head, can you ride? I'd rather clean you up somewhere that isn't the middle of nowhere.'

Aramis clearly appreciated that Porthos was giving him the chance to move on and was not dwelling on the incident.

'The village is not far away, I've got rooms at the tavern,' he said simply, 'you won't tell the others, will you?'

'That someone attacked you? Yes, I will be telling them that. That you have finally told me what has been bothering you…no. Not unless you want me to.'

Aramis nodded. Porthos could tell this had not been easy for his friend. Admitting to a breakdown, regardless of how it had been initiated would be difficult. At least he had finally talked. Porthos was happy to leave things as they were, for now. Although he knew the others would not be happy if they found out he had not told them what had really happened.

MMMM

Athos looked round as they heard the horses approach. He sighed with relief as both Aramis and Porthos appeared around the corner of the tavern. Porthos smiled as he came to a stop, he dismounted and turned to steady Aramis as he reached the ground.

'Look what I found,' said Porthos keeping a steadying hand on Aramis' arm.

Athos took in Aramis, he was pale and had several bruises about his head. His clothes were muddy and he had a generally dishevelled appearance.

'What happened?' asked d'Artagnan.

'Let's take this inside, shall we?' suggested Porthos.

Athos nodded, and led the way into the tavern. D'Artagnan took the horses back to the stable.

As they climbed the stairs to their rooms Athos said, 'we were just on our way to find you, the landlord gave you some bad information. I think you may have been set up…the stable boy appears to have been working with the zealots, he has disappeared.'

'I think you're right,' said Aramis as he opened the door to his room.

Porthos pushed Aramis down on to one of the two beds in the room and busied himself finding what he needed to clean the injured man up. D'Artagnan entered with a bowl of water and some cloths.

'Courtesy of Remy's wife, she's feeling guilty about you getting hurt,' he said to Aramis.

'It wasn't their fault,' replied Aramis.

'So, what happened?' asked Athos again.

He noticed a quick glance between the men before Aramis replied.

'The stable boy must have put stones under the saddle, it made the horse skittish I had to dismount to deal with it. I must have been followed. They knocked me down…' he paused.

'Go on…'

'They tied me up…' he paused again, it was almost as if he did not want to relate the events, 'they tied me up and said that they were taking me to Ruiz. He wanted to be sure if was me, before he killed me.'

Athos thought for a moment, he could tell there was more to the story than Aramis was saying, but he did not want to push for the information. Porthos was cleaning the cut to Aramis' head. It did not look serious, although Aramis was pale.

'I found Aramis' horse and then him before they were able to get away,' Porthos said, filling in the gaps in the story, 'I killed them both…I didn't get the chance to keep either of them alive to question them.'

'From now on, you are not to be on your own,' he glared at Aramis who was clearly going to protest, 'you know it makes sense. And you,' he looked at Porthos, 'will have to remain a deceased musketeer for a little longer…I do not want the deception to become a reality. If Ruiz finds out you are alive he will want you dead as well.'

Porthos had finished cleaning up the head wound and had turned his attention to Aramis wrists which were grazed from the ropes that had been used to tie him up.

'If you could manage not to damage your wrists any further, I think it would be a good thing,' Porthos said, trying to keep the mood light. Aramis smiled at the remark.

'I will try not to reopen old wounds,' he replied quietly.

Athos noticed them glance at each other again.

'I'll order us some food,' said d'Artagnan sensing that they needed to leave Aramis alone. Athos nodded and followed d'Artagnan out.

'We'll be down in a minute,' said Porthos.

As they descended the stairs d'Artagnan asked, 'what aren't they saying?'

'I don't know, we'll have to wait until we can talk to Porthos alone.'

MMMM

D'Artagnan watched Porthos make his way across the room. They had expected that both he and Aramis would join them for dinner.

'He wanted to sleep it off,' was all the explanation they got as Porthos settled himself opposite Athos.

'Are you going to tell us the rest of what happened, it is obvious the pair of you left something out,' said Athos giving Porthos an inquisitive stare.

'No.'

'No?'

'No, I'm not,' replied Porthos again.

'Why?' asked Athos, exasperated.

'Because he asked me not to,' said Porthos with some finality.

But Athos was not ready to let the matter drop.

'Why?'

'Athos,' said Porthos leaning forward towards the man opposite him, 'if he wants to talk about it he will. He asked me not to say anything so I won't be betraying the trust he has in me…'

'But he's OK, isn't he?' asked d'Artagnan, who had decided that a slight change in the conversation would benefit them all.

'Yes,' said Porthos, leaning back in his chair, still looking at Athos, 'he's OK. I'll vouch for him.'

Believing the matter to be settled he reached for the wine bottle, but Athos got to it first. Athos was not yet ready to let the subject drop.

'Is he a liability to our work?'

Porthos sighed returning his gaze to Athos, 'he is fine. He was just attacked, again, and has a bump on the head. It dredged up the issues he had when we were taken. But he is fine now. Please take my word for it and leave it be for now.'

It was clear to d'Artagnan that Athos was not happy with the situation but he acquiesced and released his hold on the wine bottle. Porthos took it with a brief nod to his superior and poured himself a generous cup.

MMMM

The three enjoyed their dinner in companionable silence. The disagreement between Porthos and Athos put aside.

Porthos looked up as Remy approached wringing his hands. He sidled up to them, hovering a few feet away until they were all looking at him.

'Sirs,' he said as he finally managed to reach their table, 'my wife and I feel just awful about what happened to Monsieur Aramis…um…I have…'

'Spit it out man,' said Athos tersely, it was clear that he was in no mood for the hesitant man.

'We think we know where Tom has gone.'

This got their attention. Porthos put down his spoon and pushed his soup aside.

'Where?' he asked.

'Well my wife, she was washing a pair of his breeches and in the pocket, were a few berries…I guess he picked them and was eating them on the way back but didn't finish them all.'

'Where?' asked Porthos again, knowing how Athos felt, the landlord was being far to hesitant. He was clearly nervous about speaking to them after his last piece of information had caused Aramis to be injured.

'Up near the old church. The berries only grow up there, the soil is a bit different there. The berries never grow in the soil here,' he finished, his words gradually getting faster and rolling into one.

It was d'Artagnan's turn to get agitated with the man, 'where's the church?'

Taking a breath Remy said with certainty, 'two miles north of here in a small wooded area.'

The three musketeers sat at the table breathed out, it seemed to have taken an eon to gather the small piece of information.

'Thank you,' said Porthos. Remy smiled and backed away before scurrying back to the safety of the bar.

They watched him go. Porthos returned to his soup, D'Artagnan took a drink of wine and Athos sat forward in his chair.

'D'Artagnan and I will go and have a look, there are still a few hours of light left, we can walk there, have a look around and be back before it is dark. We will reconvene then,' he paused glancing at d'Artagnan who nodded, he turned to Porthos, 'do you think Aramis will be up for joining us by then?'

Porthos appreciated Athos had finally decided to trust his judgement of the situation, 'yes, a few hours' sleep and he'll be fine.'

'We leave in ten minutes.'

MMMM

They made good time, heading across country to the abandoned church. They found the wood and crept slowly forward until they could see the church. It would have been an impressive building. The main part was largely intact, but the windows were smashed, and the roof had fallen in towards the rear in places. The sacristy was intact, wooden shutters had been fashioned over the windows.

There were rudimentary tents slung up behind the church. It was clear that the zealots were not living in the church, but using it as their meeting place and probably for storage as the doors were still evident. Heavy impenetrable doors. Athos guessed any stolen relics were stored within.

There were a few men milling around. It was difficult to tell how many men there were. It did not look like there were too many. Judging from the number of tents that had been pitched they could handle the zealots between the four of them.

'I think we have seen enough,' said Athos quietly.

They backed away from the fallen tree they were crouched behind. Once they were out of sight of the church they turned and started to walk back to the village.

The wood was deceptively thick. Athos realised, too late, that it was prime ambush territory. Seven men surrounded them swords drawn. Both d'Artagnan and he had their swords drawn in a second ready to fend off the men.

D'Artagnan fired his gun which he had drawn at the same time as his sword, he took out one of the men. After he had used the weapon as a club on a second man he dropped it and went to work with his sword.

Athos had followed a similar path, although his shot had not taken a man out, merely wounded him in the arm. But it gave Athos an advantage, he managed to slice one of the other attackers across the throat and punched another hard enough to break his nose.

The man he had shot was, unfortunately able to reciprocate, Athos only just noticed the gun being levelled at him in time. The shot rang out as he tried to move out of the way, but the searing pain in his side told him he had not moved quick enough. He collapsed to the ground with a yelp, two of the attackers on him before he could move again. They pinned him down. His mind whirled, random thoughts rushing. D'Artagnan.

Athos managed to look round. D'Artagnan was busy with three men, he did not appear to have noticed Athos' plight. Athos yelled with his remaining strength.

'Run, get away…now...go.'

D'Artagnan looked at Athos, horrified to see the musketeer overpowered and pinned to the floor. But his order was clear, he had to leave his superior to his fate, there was no point in them both getting caught. He needed to regroup with Porthos and Aramis. Taking a final lunge forward to push the men he was fighting back he turned and ran, as hard as he could.

Athos watched him go. He hoped the young man could get away. He watched d'Artagnan run as his arms were pulled behind him and were tied. He watched as he was gagged by the men he had been fighting. He only stopped watching when he was blindfolded and could watch no longer.

MMMM


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

After watching Athos and d'Artagnan disappear from sight Porthos walked back up to their rooms. He wanted to check on Aramis. The marksman worried him. Despite putting on a reasonably good act when they had returned earlier Porthos knew that Aramis was still worried what the others would think about his breakdown if they were to find out. Porthos wanted to reassure him that he had not said anything. And he wanted to try to again persuade his friend that there would be no harm in telling the others what had happened.

As he approached the door to their room he could hear mumbling. He sighed, his friend was having another dream. He quickly entered, it was, as he had thought, Aramis was thrashing about on the bed in his sleep.

Porthos grabbed his friend's arms and pinned them to his side he called the marksman's name firmly. Aramis awoke suddenly with a gasp pulling away from Porthos' grasp, scrambling to sit up. He stared at Porthos for a few second not comprehending what had happened.

'You have to talk to Athos and d'Artagnan. They won't hold this against you. Athos is already asking if you're fit for duty.'

Aramis could not make eye contact with Porthos. He looked ashamed. Porthos reached out and placed a hand on his friend's leg.

'I'll talk to them,' he said with resignation as he managed to look up, Porthos smiled and patted his leg before rising.

'Come on. Let's meet them outside when they get back,' he put his hand out to assist Aramis up.

Once standing Aramis caught Porthos arm, he turned back towards the marksman.

'Thank you,' Aramis said quietly, 'I'm not sure I would have accepted that I had a problem without you.'

'I know, I am a very good reader of people. And I can read you like a book…now, you are going to buy me a bottle of wine.'

MMMM

Aramis was still worried about talking to the others. He really did not look forward to how Athos would react. He was going to confess to breaking down, to not being able to deal with his own issues. Despite what Porthos had said, he felt pathetic. He was having panic attacks, this was not something soldiers did. Soldiers got on with it, they should not be affected by a simple thing like being held captive. He had not even been badly injured. And yet he was still suffering the after affects, even after Porthos had been given the all clear. Porthos had suffered a broken arm whilst he had just been chained up.

'I can see the thoughts running around your head.'

Aramis looked at Porthos who was staring at him.

'Stop worrying about what they'll think. You were tortured, it might not have been physical but it was still torture.'

'It shouldn't have affected me though…'

'Well it did. And now you're going to talk about it and then you will feel better,' said Porthos firmly as he refilled his cup with wine.

Aramis was still not sure.

They were both sat outside The Hare on a bench, leaning against the wall of the tavern. It was quiet, the villagers keeping to themselves in their homes. The Hare was empty apart from the musketeers.

D'Artagnan's hurried, breathless approach had them both on their feet. Porthos grabbed the young man by his shoulders as he skidded to a halt and was in danger of falling to his knees. His shoulders heaving as he gasped for air.

Porthos and Aramis exchanged a worried look, there was no sign of Athos. Aramis took a few steps in the direction d'Artagnan had come from. He peered along the road, it was empty. He looked back to see Porthos guiding d'Artagnan back inside the tavern, he followed, concern etched on his face.

MMMM

Porthos listened intently as d'Artagnan related what had happened to Athos and himself when they had been attacked.

'Was Athos injured?' asked Aramis.

'I don't know, when I saw him they had him pinned to the floor…but I did hear a gunshot just before he shouted at me to go…'

Aramis was busy cleaning the cuts that d'Artagnan had received on his run back to the village. If the situation were not so serious he would have been teasing the young musketeer mercilessly. D'Artagnan told them the injuries were due to him falling into a thorny bush, not from his fight with the zealots.

Porthos leaned forward and caught the young mans troubled eyes, 'you did what you 'ad to. If you'd both been captured it would've been only us two,' he indicated Aramis and himself, 'left to free you.'

D'Artagnan nodded, 'I know. We need to end this. It will be tough but I think the three of us can take them out. I don't want to wait for reinforcements. Athos may not have that long.'

Porthos agreed, 'yes, we need to leave as soon as possible. I think it might be time for the reports of my demise to be proven false.'

MMMM

Aramis spread his medical kit out across the bed, he wanted to double check he had everything he might need. If Athos had been hurt, he might need to treat him in the field. He felt ready, the impending action helping to focus him. They were planning a sneak attack, they would take out as many of the zealots as possible without alerting the camp to their presence.

A soft knock at the door drew his attention. Clearly it was neither d'Artagnan or Porthos who would have just walked in. He opened the door. A young boy, who looked a little scared stood on the threshold.

'Monsieur Aramis?' he said with a shaky voice.

Aramis nodded, looking down at the boy, who held up a sealed letter. Aramis took the letter from the boy who wasted no time in running off and disappearing down the stairs.

The letter was from Ruiz. Aramis tore it open and read the contents…

'I have your friend. He is injured, but not seriously. Provided he receives treatment soon he will survive. I have no reason to harm your friend.

It is you that I want. You have one hour to hand yourself over to me. Meet me, alone and unarmed, in the clearing half a mile to the West of the church.

Your death will be swift and your friend will be freed.'

MMMM

The floor he was lying on was damp and cold. The air was humid, but not stuffy. Athos tried to sit up but the pain that seared through him from his injury left him breathing hard and wishing he had remained still. He remembered his arms had been tied behind him, they still were, and the blindfold was still in place. He stilled and listened intently, trying to work out if he was alone. After what felt like a few minutes he was sure he could hear someone else's breathing. He tried to pin point where the sound was coming from.

'You are not badly injured. The ball only grazed your side, it is deep, but we have bound the wound and it has stopped bleeding,' came a quiet voice, 'you should be released within the hour and I am sure your musketeer friends will be able to deal with it.'

The sound of approaching footsteps had Athos stiffen in anticipation, of what he did not know. Hands were on his shoulder's helping him up into a sitting position, he was helped to lean against a wall.

'I did not want this to happen. I do not want people to be unnecessarily hurt whilst we pursue our quest.'

'What quest?'

'To collect the relics that our Lord requires. Pottier has directed us to collect as many sacred relics as we can. Only a couple of days ago another relic arrived. Saint Judoc will take pride of place in the church.'

Athos wondered if Pottier would realise that what he had was a fake, that the real relic of Saint Judoc was safely back in Richelieu's rooms in Paris.

'Why are you going to release me?'

'Because you have not seen me, I do not have to worry about you recognising me. I made a mistake leaving Aramis alive, I know that now. I should have killed him when I had the chance. But that will be remedied soon enough.'

'What do you mean?' Athos asked, not bothering to hide the worry in his voice.

'He is going to sacrifice himself for you. A noble gesture. Better to be a martyr than live in fear.'

'He won't give up his life for me,' said Athos, hoping that he sounded more certain than he felt. Given the way Aramis had been acting lately he was not so sure.

'We will see shortly.'

Athos heard the man stand and walk away, a door was closed. All Athos could do was wait.

MMMM

Aramis walked with purpose. He felt naked without his weapons. The familiar feeling of his guns at his waist and his sword tapping at his leg were reassuring. He had been told to go unarmed. As Athos' life might depend on it he had heeded the message.

It felt oddly calming to walk to his own execution. He was lost in his thoughts, he had no issue with sacrificing himself for his comrade. He would do the same for any of his friends. As he knew they would for him.

He had read the letter from Ruiz several times. Short and to the point, he could see no other course of action than to follow the instructions. He had left the tavern and walked towards the rendezvous within minutes of receiving the letter. There had been no time to do anything else. He had only been given an hour.

He aimed for the clearing, he knew where the church was and after nearing its location he had veered off to the West. As the clearing came into view he paused for a few moments. He reached for the cross he wore. Said a prayer, then walked into the clearing, ready to meet his fate.

MMMM


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

He watched as Aramis walked towards him. Ruiz stood in the centre of the clearing, he had readied himself for his task. Pottier had suggested one of the other men should kill the musketeer, but Ruiz was determined that he would redeem himself. He would take the life of the man himself. Pottier had given him a dagger, jewel encrusted, from his own collection. Ruiz felt honoured.

Ruiz turned to the man behind him, he nodded. The man walked away, leaving Ruiz alone with Aramis.

'Your friend will be freed,' Ruiz said.

'A man of your word,' replied Aramis stopping a few paces from Ruiz. He eyed the dagger in Ruiz's hand.

'I am pleased you have accepted my invitation. You are doing the right thing. Our quest is a noble one…'

'Killing innocent people does not seem noble to me,' retorted Aramis.

'But the collecting of the artefacts is worth their sacrifice…your sacrifice…these relics are meant to be revered. My Lord and his followers do so in a manner more befitting them. The common people do not understand their worth.'

Ruiz did not think the musketeer understood the gravitas with which he and the others followed their quest. He shook his head sadly.

'I will make this quick.'

He walked towards Aramis, the dagger ready.

MMMM

An hour earlier…

'Are you actually insane!'

Unexpectedly Porthos pushed Aramis up against the wall, holding him there. D'Artagnan stepped up to them and pulled Porthos away.

'Porthos, he's not going to let himself be killed.'

'When I said, I should do as the message says,' said Aramis as he straightened his doublet, 'I didn't intend to just go there and let him kill me…I'm going there so that you two can go and get Athos.'

Porthos took another step back, the tension leaving him. He turned and walked over to the bed before sitting down heavily.

'It's risky, I don't like it.'

'I don't like it either, but he only gave me an hour to get there. We have to move now…just be quick getting Athos out and then come and get me…preferable before Ruiz does anything.'

Aramis took off his weapon belt and laid it on the bed next to Porthos who glanced up at the marksman. He caught Aramis' arm and said quietly, 'are you sure you will be OK?'

Aramis smiled and nodded saying, 'yes. I'm looking forward to meeting Ruiz in more evenly matched circumstances than our last encounter.'

MMMM

Shouts and a strangled cry brought Athos to full alertness. He had not realised how weak he had become, he tried to sit up straighter but the pain in his side and his bound hands made the action difficult. He listened intently, with the blindfold still in place he had to rely on his hearing to try and discern what was happening. A couple of gun shots made him jump, which sent pain through his body as he jarred the wound. Once he had reoriented himself and settled his pained breathing he became aware of swords clashing.

He smiled, this was clearly a rescue. His brothers were fighting the zealots, from the sounds he could make out he guessed they were above him. He wondered if the three of them would be able to take out all the zealots. He did not know how many there were. He and d'Artagnan had despatched a few during their brief fight, but there were more to be dealt with.

Breaking wood, and the sound of a man falling in the room had Athos trying to move again. At least two people were fighting, the clashing of the swords was loud in the stone walled room. The fighters were moving about, their footsteps betraying their locations. One of the swordsmen was moving more efficiently than the other. He heard a yelp of pain and the sound of another body falling to the floor followed by steps rapidly approaching him.

Hands were on him, pulling the blindfold off, he blinked and looked up, relieved to see the smiling face of d'Artagnan.

MMMM

They had crept around the church and the zealots camp. Two sentries were taken out easily and quietly. The tents were scattered haphazardly, but close together. Taking one tent at a time they had managed to overpower and kill four more men. Killing the men was not their intention but as each man put up a fight and the need for silence was paramount they had been given little choice.

A group of eight men were sat around a campfire. They knew they would have to break their cover to deal with them. They were not sure where Athos was being held, but guessed it would be within the more secure area of the church. The campfire and the men sitting by it were too close to the door of the church for the two musketeers to evade them.

Porthos indicated that he would circle around the men. When he was in position they both broke cover at the same time charging at the resting men. Only four of the eight were armed, one managed to fire a shot from his gun but he did not hit his target. He was prevented from playing any further part when Porthos thrust his main gauche into the man's throat.

Tearing the blade from the dying man Porthos turned and began to engage two of the armed men in a fierce battle. The unarmed men had fled, presumably to alert any others and to collect weapons. There element of surprise was well and truly gone. This was to be a hard battle, but Porthos was determined that they would win.

He glanced across at d'Artagnan who had managed to manoeuvre the man he was fighting with toward the church, backing him up against the door.

One of the men fighting Porthos lunged forward, Porthos parried and grabbed the man's arm pulling him around and into the other swordsman. The two fell in a tangle of limbs, Porthos pulled his gun and shot one in the head before clubbing the other hard with the butt of the gun rendering him unconscious.

D'Artagnan and the man he was fighting had disappeared, the door to the church was open. Porthos could hear the clash of swords from within. He had no time to follow the young musketeer, three men were rushing towards him. A forth had run into the church, Porthos hoped d'Artagnan was in a position to deal with a second opponent.

The three that ran at Porthos were not as disciplined as the other fighters had been, they were small men. The first was dealt with by one sword thrust to the stomach, the man staggered back and collapsed weakly clutching at the wound. The second fought wildly but left himself open to a single, simple stab to the chest from Porthos' main gauche and the third was then left with no help. He tried to bring his sword, which was clearly too heavy for him, up and over his head leaving him completely exposed. Porthos slashed across the man's chest and brought his foot up and kicked him backwards hard. All three were dead or dying within a minute.

'You fight well musketeer,' sneered another man. He was a big man, an equal to Porthos, he carried a sword, held loosely at his side.

Porthos was breathless but ready for the next fight. He noted the man in front of him was not carrying a gun and appeared to only have a sword and nothing to help with parrying any thrusts. The man held himself like a fighter. Porthos wondered if he had been a soldier.

'I am Pottier, I am the leader of these men, and I shall avenge their deaths at your hand,' said the man, taking a couple of steps forward.

'Your men have been causing pain and suffering to innocent people, I've no issue with killin' them,' replied Porthos, taking a few paces forward himself and bringing his sword forward, ready for the fight he knew was coming.

MMMM

D'Artagnan's smile faltered when he saw the state of Athos, he was ashen and obviously in pain. He knelt beside his superior and used his main gauche to cut the rope from his wrists. Athos moaned in pain as his wound was agitated by the movement.

'How badly are you hurt?'

'I'll be able to walk, but I doubt I will be much good in a sword fight, where are the others?' replied Athos as he clutched his injured side.

D'Artagnan pulled Athos' hands away and inspected the wound, 'this will need stitches…last I saw Porthos he was fighting outside. We've taken out most of them now, here,' he handed Athos his gun, 'we need to get you out of here.'

'Aramis?'

'Gone to meet Ruiz…'

'What!'

'No…why do you two keep thinking he's going to sacrifice himself willingly?'

Athos nodded understanding what was happening, 'a distraction.'

'Yes, but not one that will last long, he's unarmed, and we don't know how Ruiz intends to try and kill him.'

Athos nodded again and allowed d'Artagnan to pull him up. He leaned against the cold stone wall for a few seconds as the pain washed through him. When he was ready he put his arm around d'Artagnan's shoulder and allowed himself to be helped from the room. They slowly climbed the steps back up to the church. As they entered they could hear Porthos continuing to fight outside.

A man rushed in through the door, he saw d'Artagnan and Athos and ran at them, sword raised. He had barely covered half of the distance before collapsing to the floor a bloody hole in his head. Athos lowered the gun.

'You may not be fighting with a sword, but that works just as well,' remarked d'Artagnan as they continued to move out of the church.

MMMM

Pottier was an accomplished disciplined fighter. His sword stokes were well aimed and hard. Porthos was having a difficult time fighting the man. He was tiring from taking on so many men in battle. He parried another good swipe of the sword from his opponent.

Initially Porthos had thought the man cocky in his actions, but it quickly became apparent that he was testing Porthos' limits. As they fought, Porthos realised the man was trained, there was a slight predictability about his fighting. This was what Porthos would need to expose. Although Porthos was trained, he was not averse to using his own personal touches.

Pottier lunged forward, Porthos stepped to the side to miss the sword, but rather than return the gesture he flipped the sword and punched Pottier hard in the face with the hilt. Twice. The man reeled back, sword flailing upwards wildly. Porthos twisted his main gauche around the sword forcing it from the man's hand. As the sword was pulled lose Porthos pushed Pottier back roughly, drew back his own sword and thrust it deep into the now exposed chest of his opponent. Pottier gasped, he looked at Porthos, surprised. Porthos smiled at him, as he pushed his sword deeper.

Pottier slipped backwards, he coughed, blood appeared on his lips. He fell slowly, Porthos had a good grip on his sword. Pottier slowly slipped off the sword and to the ground. He took one final, faltering breath. Then lay still.

MMMM

As they emerged from the church Athos took in the scene. Bodies lay scattered around a campfire. Porthos was stood panting in the centre of the carnage. He looked up as they approached him.

'That,' he said pointing at the body before him, 'was the leader…mad…totally mad. These men must've been following him blindly, they were clearly willing to do his bidding.'

'We still have one more to deal with,' d'Artagnan reminded him.

'You alright?' Porthos asked looking at Athos.

'I will be fine, I will be happier once we have found our missing marksman.'

'Don't you trust us to deal with your wound?' asked Porthos with a slight grin.

Athos knew that Porthos was anxious to be reunited with Aramis as well. They had all been worried about him, and even though he was not willingly going to his death, there was still the possibility that he would not be able to take out Ruiz first.

Porthos took Athos' other arm and helped d'Artagnan to walk the injured man towards the clearing they knew Aramis had headed to. Athos was glad they had not tried to talk him into staying, even though it would have meant Porthos and d'Artagnan could have moved quicker he wanted to be able to help in any way he could.

They moved fairly quickly anyway, Athos was in pain, but not so much that it inhibited his walking. He really only needed his friends to keep him from falling. He stumbled a few times, causing him to wince in pain, but they carried on regardless. The trees thinned out as they reached the clearing.

MMMM

Ruiz advanced on Aramis who stood his ground. He was ready to move, but needed Ruiz to be close enough, he did not want to give the man the chance to run. When the dagger had been produced Aramis had been careful not to sigh with relief. If Ruiz had intended to shoot him it would have been much harder to deal with.

When Ruiz was a couple of paces away he raised his left hand to place on Aramis' shoulder, he intended to plunge the dagger into Aramis' chest. Just as the dagger was moving towards him he grabbed Ruiz by the hand and stepped slightly to the side. Ruiz, obviously surprised by the move, could not prevent the extra step he took. Aramis managed to twist Ruiz's right arm around, but as Ruiz's hold on the dagger was tight he could not prevent it from slicing his forearm causing him to release his grip slightly.

Ruiz took advantage, he was no fighter, but his primal instinct to preserve his own life took over. He twisted back and shoved Aramis causing him to stumble slightly. Taking the momentary distraction, he put his foot behind Aramis and tripped him to the ground. Aramis fell hard, the air knocked out of him.

Aramis had to quickly bring his arms up to prevent Ruiz plunging the knife into his face, he missed the man's hands and ended up grabbing the blade of the dagger. He felt the sharp metal cutting his palm but he held on and pushed up quickly causing Ruiz to move back slightly. Aramis let go of the dagger and shifted slightly to the left at the same time. Ruiz could not change his direction quick enough and plunged the dagger harmlessly into the ground beside Aramis' head.

With a quick movement Aramis pushed Ruiz over onto his back and straddled him. Pulling his bloody hand back, he punched Ruiz, hard, his own blood mixing with that of his opponents. Two more punches saw Ruiz unconscious.

Aramis moved away from the still figure and sat heavily on the ground nursing his injured hand.

MMMM


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

They reached the clearing in time to see Aramis pushing Ruiz onto his back. Porthos wanted to rush forward but Athos stopped him.

'I think he needs to finish this himself.'

They watched as Aramis punched the man three times only walking forward as the marksman pulled himself up and moved to sit a few feet away. Porthos was the first to reach him, crouching down to check his friend. He gently reached out to take Aramis' hand and inspected the wounds.

D'Artagnan helped Athos to sit down beside Aramis, then went to deal with Ruiz. The man was still unconscious but they would not be taking any chances. Athos watched approvingly as d'Artagnan firmly bound Ruiz's wrists.

Athos found himself being examined by Aramis, who was trying to check the wound on his side.

'Will you take a moment to let Porthos see to your injuries?' he said rolling his eyes, 'I am covered in enough of my own blood, I do not need yours added to it.'

Porthos pulled Aramis off Athos and used his bandana to wrap around the cut to his palm. Athos pulled off his scarf and handed it to Porthos who then wrapped the cut on Aramis' forearm. Aramis glared at them both throughout.

Once the ministrations were complete Athos allowed Aramis to look at his side.

'It will need stitches,' Aramis concluded.

'I know that, which is why we needed to come and get you,' replied Athos.

They looked over as Ruiz moaned, d'Artagnan nudged him with his boot, eliciting another moan, 'I think he's awake, we can go.'

MMMM

Ruiz was shoved into a chair in the corner of the room, the younger man stood to his left leaning against the wall, a gun in his hand aimed roughly in his direction. Ruiz understood he was not to move. He watched as Aramis and the musketeer he thought had died lowered their friend onto one of the beds.

The big musketeer had taken great delight in hauling Ruiz to his feet back in the clearing saying, 'remember me?' as he did so.

Now his two former captives were working together on their injured comrade. They had stripped him of his shirt and were busy cleaning the gunshot wound. The injured man, Athos, he had heard them call him, had moaned in pain as water and alcohol were poured over his side. The big musketeer had firmly held him down.

Despite the injuries he had suffered, Aramis had insisted to the others that Athos' need was greater. After he had quickly wrapped a clean bandage around his palm he had threaded a needle and begun stitching the wound. Athos had involuntarily fought them, but his attempts to stop the continued pain of the stitching had been weak and the man had eventually passed out.

Aramis worked calmly and quickly to close the wound, his stitches neat and careful.

Ruiz realised that what he had been doing was wrong. He realised that Pottier was wrong. The man had told them that common people did not appreciate the Church and its teachings in the same way that they did. Ruiz now knew, simply by watching these four musketeers that, what he had been doing was against the Churches teaching. He realised that he had been about to murder an innocent, good man. Aramis' death would not have helped their cause in any way.

Aramis had finished stitching the wound. He and the big musketeer wrapped a fresh bandage around Athos' torso then covered him with a blanket.

'Can you watch them both whilst I deal with him,' asked the big musketeer looking at the young man with the gun.

The young man nodded. Satisfied, his comrade pulled Aramis up and steered him out of the room and along the corridor. The young musketeer moved to sit on the other bed, where he could watch both his captive and Athos at the same time in comfort.

MMMM

'This really isn't necessary, you could have done this in there,' said Aramis as Porthos pushed him into their room.

'I know, but you need to be away from that man,' said Porthos.

'No, I don't,' said Aramis.

Porthos paused as he was helping Aramis out of his doublet, looking at his friend quizzically.

'I remember now. I remember what happened to us when we were kidnapped. I think seeing Ruiz again brought it back.'

Aramis allowed Porthos to tend to the wounds on his arm and hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes as Porthos worked.

'I don't feel the weight of it anymore. I think catching Ruiz has…' Aramis paused, searching for the words, '…cleared my head. It was cathartic.'

Porthos smiled, he had thought Aramis would not want to be near Ruiz any longer, he had underestimated his friend.

MMMM

D'Artagnan moved across the room to check on Athos when he moaned. His friend did not stir further, d'Artagnan guessed he would remain unconscious for a while longer.

A small creak behind him made him turn. Ruiz was right behind him, he lashed out at the young musketeer knocking him hard on the temple. A flash of light splashed across his vision before he collapsed to the floor. He was aware of Ruiz rushing to the door, pulling it open, and disappearing.

D'Artagnan blinked to clear his vision, he pushed himself up with difficulty. For a moment, he thought he might pass out. He waited for a few seconds until the room stopped spinning. He stumbled out into the corridor and, using the wall for support, made his way to Porthos and Aramis' room. He crashed through the door.

Both men looked up, startled at his sudden appearance.

'Ruiz…hit me…gone…sorry,' he managed to say.

Aramis had grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him. He was steered back to his and Athos' room and forced to sit on his bed. Aramis quickly checked on Athos before turning to leave saying as he went, 'stay with Athos, we'll get Ruiz back.'

Before d'Artagnan could protest Aramis was gone, following the quickly disappearing Porthos down the stairs.

MMMM

Ruiz charged down the stairs and across the taverns bar, he ripped the door open and rushed out. He knew where he was going. He did not know if he would make it. The young musketeer had been trying to get up as he had left the room, he knew that Aramis and the big musketeer would be after him. He had to be quick.

As he rushed along the road he was aware of them coming after him. Where he was heading was not far. He ran as fast as he could, he knew he was not as fit as the two musketeers who followed him but he would reach the river first.

MMMM

Porthos was just ahead of Aramis as they cleared the last house in the village. Ruiz was not far ahead of them now and he was slowing down. Aramis wanted to recapture the man, he wanted to see Ruiz brought to justice. Wanted to see him pay for what he had done, not only to Porthos and himself, but for his part in the whole fiasco with the zealots. Innocent people had been killed, and Ruiz was there, helping organise a group of misguided zealots.

When Aramis realised what Ruiz was doing he sped up. Ruiz intended to throw himself into the river. He had seen the river, swollen from recent rain, when he had been searching for the zealots' camp. He knew it was fast flowing, with large rocks dotted about. To jump in at the point Ruiz was heading for would mean certain death. Ruiz wanted to take a coward's way out, he did not want to face his crimes.

Ruiz reached the river, they were not going to reach him in time. Porthos was literally a few paces behind. Ruiz wasted no time, he jumped.

MMMM

Porthos knew about the river and had worked out what Ruiz was doing. As they neared the river he was aware of Aramis speeding up. But they were too late, Ruiz had jumped.

As he skidded to a halt on the edge of the steep bank he had to grab Aramis around the waist to prevent him inadvertently following Ruiz into the river. Aramis stumbled right on the edge of the bank sending stones into the river.

They watched as Ruiz was tossed about, smashing into two boulders in quick succession. His head smacked hard on both occasions, he was almost certainly dead.

Porthos realised he was still holding onto Aramis, he let go. They were both breathing hard. Porthos bent at the waist, resting his hands on his knees. Aramis turned from the river and with his hands on his hips looked skywards shaking his head.

'Damn,' he said, then he sighed.

Porthos stood up straight, he briefly rested his hand on the marksman's shoulder and squeezed it.

'I agree,' Porthos said. He glanced at Aramis, expecting to see him slipping into a maudlin state. Aramis looked relived. Perhaps this was something the troubled musketeer needed. The man who had caused his friend to have panic attacks and prevented him from sleeping was gone. The fact that Aramis' memory of their kidnapping had returned was a good sign. He hoped that his friend would finally be back to his normal self.

With nothing else to be done, they walked back to the tavern.

MMMM

Athos opened his eyes slowly. D'Artagnan was sat on the edge of his bed, but he was looking anxiously towards the bedroom door which stood open.

'Why is your face bruised?'

D'Artagnan looked down at him, 'I wasn't paying attention, Ruiz got away. They went after him.'

Athos tried to sit up, d'Artagnan helped him.

'How long have they been gone?'

'A while now.'

With perfect timing, the two missing men appeared at the door.

'Threw himself into the river,' Porthos said.

'Dead?' asked d'Artagnan.

'Yes,' replied Aramis, 'he was determined.'

Porthos sat on a chair and grabbed a bottle of wine, he poured himself a generous cup. He looked over to Aramis who had remained standing just inside the doorway. Athos watched as Aramis glanced over at Porthos and nodded almost imperceptibly.

'I wanted to say…that…'Aramis paused, he took a breath then continued, 'I was affected, more than I let on. Our captivity, it…'

He trailed off, Athos could tell he was struggling to get through what he wanted to say.

'I should have told you about it. I should have told you that I was not sleeping and having flashbacks. I could have put you in danger…I'm sorry.'

Athos let out a breath he did not know he was holding. Finally, Aramis had admitted he had been having issues. He knew it must have been difficult.

Porthos rose from his chair, walked across the room to Aramis and grabbed him in a brief embrace. He put his arm around his friend's shoulder and practically pulled him across the room and pushed him down to sit on the other bed, thrusting his own cup of wine at him. Aramis took it with a small smile.

'You could have told us, we would not have judged you,' said Athos, 'it was obvious there was something bothering you. I would rather you did not keep anything like this to yourself in the future.'

Aramis bowed his head slightly at the comment, 'I know,' he said.

MMMM

Aramis lay in his bed. He wondered if he would sleep. The events of the last few days and weeks ran through his mind. It had been difficult. He had denied to his friend, his brothers, that he was affected by his captivity. He felt guilty for potentially putting them in danger by his own inability to speak up about his issues.

When he had finally spoken about the flashbacks and the panic attack the others had been understanding. They had let him speak about it without interruption. Athos had been disappointed, but he had made it clear that he understood the difficulty that Aramis had talking about the issues.

He had felt relieved to finally speak, out loud, about the flashbacks. He had described how they had made him feel. He told them about the sleepless nights. The dreams, waking frequently, not knowing where he was. He even told them what had happened between him and Porthos when he had been attacked the day before by the zealots.

Ruiz and Pottier clearly believed in what they were doing, but what they were doing was wrong. Their actions had affected so many people. They had killed people, they had stolen irreplaceable items. Ruiz had been instrumental in his and Porthos kidnapping.

Now that they were all gone, and his memory of the kidnapping had returned, Aramis knew that he could move on. Perhaps he had been stuck in his perpetual loop of flashbacks, because they were still going about their strange quest. Now they were gone. Could he move on?

The zealots, were religious. But they were not faithful to God in the same way that he was. They had taken the teachings out of context. Aramis was at peace with the fact that the zealots were wrong in many ways. He would not let their behaviour affect him anymore.

Porthos, lying on the bed next to him, was breathing evenly, Aramis was not sure if he was asleep. He wondered if his friend was waiting for him to fall asleep. Waiting to see if he was still being plagued by the dreams. He had not slept properly for weeks. At least not without the help of the sleeping draughts.

He felt himself relax, his eyes closed. Tonight, he now knew, he would sleep. And he would sleep well.

The End

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for all the lovely reviews.


End file.
